


I Keep Going to the River

by awanderingmuse



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awanderingmuse/pseuds/awanderingmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky struggle to come back from a war the world left behind seventy years ago. It’s difficult when that life still exists in your head though. Eventually they find that sometimes the demons in your mind are the ones that know the way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ghost of You Keeps Me Awake

**Author's Note:**

> A huge gigantic bone crushing hug and thanks to Lt. Regina Barclay. She's the track that keeps this writer from being a run away train.
> 
> Titles come from Ella Henderson's Ghost.

The bar is warm and crowded. The lighting is low to create an atmosphere of intimacy. It was a lot like the little hole in the wall pubs the Commandos would find themselves in during the war: smoky and aged, but homey. At least this one, in the middle of Brooklyn, wasn’t bombed out.

It also didn’t hurt that Steve knew the owner. It wasn’t hard to convince him to let them have their own private alcove away from all the other patrons. 

All of that was what made it the perfect place for the Howling Commandos to have a reunion of sorts. Even though one or the other of them seemed to perpetually be in New York looking for work, or doing something with the press, or helping Stark. It was always something.

This was a special occasion though. Falsworth had come to town with his wife and kids for a vacation. And so Steve and Bucky had made sure to get the group together.

Steve idly picked at the dark green label on his beer while Morita extolled the virtues of California. Or rather complained about the trip to cold New York. Steve maintained that the past few winters were really very mild compared to the ones he experienced growing up. 

“Do you know how long the train ride from here to there is?” Jim complains. “I thought the world would rock forever. I could hardly stand when we stopped in the frozen north.”

“You can hardly stand as it is!” Dum Dum retorts, gulping down his beer like it was his job.

“Haha, laugh it up.” Jim says. 

“Yeah. It’s not like it’s a bad idea to make fun of the military’s best communications specialist.” Gabe chimes in with a wicked grin.

“This Com spec is a martial arts expert and is going to kick your ass!” Jim retorts hotly.

Steve ducks his head smiling. He missed these guys. Life was going swell with Peggy and Bucky. Bucky officially lived in a dusty apartment a few blocks away and unofficially spent most nights with Steve and Peggy. It was a wonderful life but sometimes he missed his team. 

After the war he’d married Peggy, but only after she’d bluntly offered to “share that smooth talking Sargent Barnes he was so obviously in love with” with him instead of keeping Bucky all to herself. The three of them had a good life together, even with having to keep up appearances.

He’s startled out of his reverie by Falsworth talking to him. “So, how’s Mrs. Cap, Captain? Is she the reason you have been wearing that dopey grin all night?”

Steve splutters with surprise and nearly knocks over his gin and tonic when Bucky suggestively moves the friendly hand resting on his knee up to his thigh. They are in the middle of a public bar for Christ’s sake.

“Now that’s no way to be talking about the new Director of the SSR, Monty.” Bucky covers for Steve when it becomes apparent Steve would go for one of his completely transparent lies. No one would blame him though, not with Bucky’s hand where it is.

The men all whistled at that. “You’re one lucky brave old dog, Cap. I’ve always said it, marrying a fiery dame like Agent Carter.” Denier says conspiratorially. “But when are you and Director Rogers going to give us some miniature Caps to play with.”

Steve rolls his eyes and retorts “When are going to you ask that girl of yours to marry you?” 

Denier blushes. “I’m going to when I get back.” He says like it’s some kind of confession.

The guys loudly congratulate Denier and buy another round of drinks. They stay that way for a few more hours. Reminiscing while Bucky covertly takes every touch he can get away with in the dim bar. Resting his hand on the small of Steve’s back, his fore arm and shoulder. And always back to Steve’s thigh because he knows how to drive Steve nuts.

As always the Commandos never notice. Steve often wondered if the Commandos knew about the change in Steve and Bucky’s relationship from friendly to romantic following the plane crash and finding Bucky. If they just had enough tact to not mention it or if they were truly that oblivious. He’s never had the opportunity to find out. He doesn’t really want to.

The reminiscing eventually takes a mournful tone and turns to remembrance. They remember and drink to several soldiers who had died in the war. Steve was so glad that Bucky was not one of the names they were remembering tonight. It could so easily have been that way. 

He should have died from the fall. Steve thanked god every day that Bucky didn’t. There were already far too many on the list of fallen friends as it was.

As if reading his mind Bucky reaches out under the table and squeezes Steve’s hand. Steve gives Bucky a grateful smile and doesn’t let go. Feeling Bucky’s warm skin against his own helps to ease some of the melancholy.

“You boys remember private Linwood?” Gabe asks eventually. Steve doesn’t know who they’re talking about. The way Bucky goes silent and motionless tells him that he was likely one of the members of the 107th that hadn’t made it out of Zola’s labs.

“There’s a lot of good guys to remember from then.” Bucky chokes out. Steve doesn’t let go of his fella’s hand. 

A sad silence hangs over the group before Dum Dum pushes his chair back raises his glass and says “To the fallen of the 107th!” 

Steve joins in raising his glass to the men he couldn’t save. What he hates most is that he can’t say that he’s sorry that he didn’t get there earlier. If he had, well, Bucky would never have been one of Zola’s experiments. He wouldn’t have received a weak version of the serum. He’d be dead at the bottom of the Alps. The French unit that had happened to be passing through would never have found him badly injured, with several broken bones among other things, but miraculously alive. He couldn’t fully regret something that meant that he had Bucky.

They head out soon after that. The Commandos heading to whatever accommodations they’d managed to swing for cheap.

They walk out of the bar in a hazy but companionable silence. Snow crunching beneath dress shoes. A much softer sound than when it was trampled by combat boots.

As the group parts Jones calls to Bucky. “Hey, Sarge. You want us to get you back to your apartment? That way we don’t keep Cap from his lovely wife!”

Steve can feel a blush spreading across his face. He also has to fight the urge to pull Bucky to him possessively. Bucky was supposed to spend the night with Steve and Peggy tonight. 

“And who would make sure that this lug made it home without picking a fight?” Bucky retorts, playing up how drunk he is by sloppily throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and leaning into him. “Nah, Mrs. Rogers promised me their guest room if I made sure Steve made it home without a fight.”

The guys seem to take that at face value and wish them a good night. As the guys depart Dum Dum turns once more, boots sloshing in the river of run off by the side of the road to yell, “Babies, Cap!” before he is shoved away by Falsworth.

Steve and Bucky trudge away in silence. Leaning towards each other under the guise of drunkenness. Steve belatedly realizes that Bucky is trying to steal his body heat. Which means it must be cold. He didn’t feel it though.

“Sorry.” Steve murmurs softly to Bucky, pulling him closer as if to help his drunken friend get home. “I didn’t realize it was cold.”

“Not a problem, Stevie.” Bucky breathes back. His breath floating between them on a white cloud. “That damn serum keeps you going like a furnace, yeah?”

Steve chuckles and they make their way home sharing warmth and unimportant thoughts on the world. 

When they get home they find Peggy has fallen asleep on the couch. She and the area around her is littered in government files. Bucky sets to picking them up and organizing the files in a stack the way she likes them while Steve tries to get her awake enough that he can get her and Bucky to bed.

“Hey Peggy.” He says, softly kneeling next to the couch and running his fingers through her hair. “Peggy, we’re home now. It’s time to go to bed honey.”

Peggy moans softly in her sleep and turns towards the sound of Steve’s voice. Bucky chuckles softly from somewhere behind him.

“Steve? James?” Peggy asks reaching for them blindly. Bucky comes over to intercept her reaching hand. 

“It’s us baby-doll.” Bucky affirms softly, kissing her curled fingers affectionately. Steve loves how much they love each other. He’s honored that he gets to be a part of it. “You ready to catch some shut-eye?”

Peggy sits up and looks blearily for her files. “I had work to do.”

“We know.” Steve reassures her. He loves how soft she is when she first wakes up. Loves watching how the fire that keeps her going every day slowly takes over. “Did you get everything done?”

“No.” She says around a yawn and a full body stretch. “But what’s left will keep. How were the boys?”

“Good.” Steve and Bucky say in unison. Then over one another Steve informs her that Denier is getting married while Bucky tells her that Dum Dum wants ‘Cap babies’.

“Good for Denier, but those boys are overly interested in our personal lives.” She says as she sits and turns towards the files that are spread out neatly on the coffee table. The look in her eyes tells Steve she’s going to start working again.

Steve and Bucky exchange a knowing glance. Bucky shrugs, letting Steve know that he thinks Steve is best suited to deal with this. Steve wonders when Bucky had time to get the files laid out like that. But it’s not as important as getting Peggy to bed. She has a meeting with some General or Senator or something in the morning.

Steve stands and offers her a hand up. “That’s what mornings are for, Pegs. If we go to bed now we might be able to convince this Jerk to make us pancakes in the morning.”

Peggy takes his hand and stands as Bucky knocks into him. “I’ll make pancakes for our best girl Punk. But you aren’t getting any if you’re gonna go around saying things like that.”

Steve can’t help but grin at Bucky while Peggy hustles them both to bed like it was her idea all along. 

He wakes up alone to the report of a baseball game that had already happened years ago. As he opens his eyes the first thing he notices is that he’s most definitely not at home. Peggy and Bucky are nowhere to be seen.

He’s in a strange room. In an SSR t-shirt which is odd since he had left the SSR after the war was over. 

He sits up blearily trying to work out where he is and why. Something is severely wrong. He remembers Bucky and Peggy. But more recently, more clearly, he remembers being cold. Freezing in ways that he’d never even imagined, in a way he hadn’t been able to feel in several years. Where is he? What happened? 

The door opens and a young woman, either a nurse or secretary, walks in. He asks her where he is and she lies. 

“Where am I really?” He asks. There’s something very slightly off in her speech. It’s stilted like she’s nervous, afraid she’ll slip up. Was he somehow taken prisoner from his own home?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” The young woman lies again.

He tells her about the game and asks one last time. He advances on her furiously, fully ready to fight his way out of wherever he was to get home. 

“Captain Rogers.” She says clearly scared.

“Who are you?” he demands just as the door bursts open to admit two strangely dressed men.

The last strangely dressed men he’d seen were HYDRA. So Steve does the sensible thing and shoves the men through the wall and into the next room, using them as human shields against anyone who might attack in the room beyond.

Which is actually a warehouse with some strange color projection of New York. What was going on? Where were Peggy and Bucky? Where was he?

He runs out of the room and into a strange hallway. Nothing is familiar. There is glass and metal and too many suits. Steve panics, runs faster and further, dodging people who are trying to stop him. He has to get home. 

He runs and runs. Steve runs out of the building into a strange version of New York. It’s disorienting, the sky nearly completely blocked out by towers, and there’s far too much unfamiliar noise. Strange pictures move across screens in color. It’s so unreal that it can be nothing but real. He thinks he has to tell Bucky and Peggy, but he has no idea where they are.

He’s lost. The thought stops him in his tracks. What happened?

Black, shiny cars, so large they’re nearly tanks, surround him and a voice from behind him says. “At ease soldier.” It’s oddly reassuring, the no nonsense voice of a commander, though he hasn’t been in the army for a couple of years. Possibly.

The stern dark skinned man in an eye patch approaches him and says. “Look I’m sorry for the little show back there, but we thought it best if we break it to you slowly.”

“Break what?” He demands. If he hadn’t used all his panic he would be now. Where were Peggy and Bucky?

“You’ve been asleep, Cap.” The man says. “For almost seventy years.”

Steve’s floored. And suddenly he knows. Remembers that Bucky is dead. The fall killed him, there was no amazing French rescue. That he himself crashed a plane into the ice expecting to die. Wishing Peggy only half a good-bye.

But he didn’t die. And now he’s awake, in this strange new world. With nothing, no one, left.

He doesn’t know how to react. There is no possible way to react.

“You gonna be okay?” The man asks insisting on maintaining stupid social standards even after the word, Steve’s world, has ended. 

Of course he isn’t going to be okay. He lost his life once. And now he’s lost it again when it didn’t even exist. When it was only a dream. But he can’t let this stranger see that. It’s his issue not theirs.

“Yeah, Yeah.” Steve says. “I just.” He takes a moment to mourn all he’s lost and says. “I had a date.” A promised dance that never happened. Pancakes that were never offered.

He takes a deep fortifying breath and goes back in to be debriefed on the last seventy years by the man who is named Fury. It all seems so unreal and he wants to go back to his life. But his life was apparently a seventy year_long dream.

Steve learns that life moves quickly in the future. He only gets a couple of days to himself before there is a crisis. Fury interrupts his workout to let him know that there’s a briefing packet in his apartment and he’ll be picked up shortly.

That’s when he meets his new team. At first it looks like it will be a disaster. The only ones he wants to like are Banner and Romanoff. 

That’s right, he wants to like the spy and the rage monster. The rest he feels he has no hope of trusting. He couldn’t stand Stark’s son and the alien was in some ways the reason they were in this situation in the first place. Barton was an unknown entity as he had apparently been under mind control or something.

It was too much too soon. He didn’t know these people, didn’t know how to work with them. And it was extremely frustrating because they were expected to somehow save the world from the alien’s deranged brother.

To make matters worse he keeps expecting people to be there that aren’t alive anymore. He sees Peggy’s curls in Natasha. Howard’s genius in Tony. When Thor uses his hammer and blows things to bits Steve prepares to yell at Morita. And he thinks that Bucky is out of sync with him today until he remembers it’s Barton that’s covering his six.

He’s probably the most surprised when it works. They fight the aliens, save the world, and Tony Stark proves himself to be worth twelve of his father.

And suddenly it’s as familiar as breathing. But unbearably strange. For one there’s no Bucky or Peggy or Commandos to share the euphoria of his victory with. But the motions are the same. With the mission complete the team goes out for victory food. Stark, who’d nearly given his life to save the world, insists on paying for the shwarma which isn’t nearly as terrible as Steve expects.

They don’t talk much in the trashed out restaurant, which is also familiar. At one point he almost asks Bucky to pass him some of the sauce the shwarma is eaten with. But at the last minute he remembers that Bucky isn’t here with this new team. So he asks Romanoff instead.

The days go on like that. He works for S.H.I.E.L.D., works with the STRIKE team and with Romanoff and Barton. He runs missions and lives in DC. It’s too hard living in New York. Ghosts that only he knows to remember haunt every street. 

There are ghosts in DC too but at least they aren’t his. They aren’t personal. Nearly half of the bricks in New York scream of Peggy, the rest belong to Bucky. What hurts worst is many of the ghosts aren’t even real. Five years of his life were just an elaborate dream.

He doesn’t sleep much. The people around him notice. It’s finally Natasha who says something.

“Do super soldiers not need sleep or something?” she asks in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.S. break rooms.

“Huh?” Steve asks, looking up from where he had been very invested in the slow drip of the coffee pot. Caffeine has no effect on him now, but if he makes it bitter enough it’s almost the same thing.

“You have bags under your eyes, Rogers.” The Black Widow says, shining an apple on her blouse and tossing it to him. He barely catches it even with his improved reflexes and she tuts at him. “And your reflexes suck. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh.” Steve says weakly. Knowing he’s going to be read like an open book by Natasha but not having enough energy to try and stop her.

Natasha nods once as if he’d verbally confirmed her suspicions. “That’s not going to work Steve. You have got to sleep. Are you having nightmares?”

Steve snorts at that and takes a bite of the apple hoping its tangy flavor will wake him up. Nightmares aren’t really his problem. But he’s not going to tell her what is. They aren’t that close yet. He’s not sure he’ll ever be that close to anyone again. “You could say that.” He replies around a mouth full of apple that isn’t helping.

Natasha eyes him and sighs. “Meet me in the garage in an hour.”

“Um, what?” Steve says. He’d just gotten out of a meeting with Fury where he’d been told he wouldn’t have another mission for at least a week. Why was he meeting Agent Romanoff in the garage?

“Trust me.” Natasha says with a sweet smile, stealing his mug to pour some coffee for herself before leaving the break room. A call of “Third floor space 37.”Following her into the hall.

An hour later Steve finds himself standing by the flashiest car he’d seen yet. It’s a testament to how tired Steve is when he barely reacts to Natasha’s hand on his shoulder. “Well get in.” She says, expectantly gesturing to the car.

It’s all a little surreal. At least Natasha isn’t reminding Steve so strongly of Peggy that it hurts anymore. 

“Why?” Steve asks. “Where are we going? I wasn’t told about a mission.”

Natasha sighs. She’s clearly getting frustrated with him. “It’s not a mission Rogers. I’m taking you to mine so you can finally get some sleep before you go crazy on us from sleep deprivation.”

Steve freezes, his hand resting on the door handle of Romanoff’s ridiculous car. Surely he can’t just go sleep at a ladies house for no reason. “Natasha I…” He starts to say. But Natasha cuts him off with a look.

“No Steve.” Natasha says. “I’m not accepting any excuses involving 1930’s propriety about men being alone with women. Actually, I’m not accepting any excuses at all. Get in the car or I’m going with plan B.”

He realizes he is stuck as he gets in the car, but he can’t refrain from asking. “What’s plan B?” as they pull out of the parking garage.

Natasha smiles over at him sweetly and says. “Let Clint catch up with his tranquilizer darts.”

“Oh.” Steve says, not sure how he’s supposed to respond to that. Natasha just grins and takes off down the road.

It doesn’t take very long for them to make it to Natasha’s apartment. It’s on the top floor with stonework that creates fairly easy roof access, if you’re a super assassin. 

It’s homey if a little messier than Steve would expect Natasha to be. But she seems at ease as if it were her own home, so Steve assumes it’s alright.

“You want anything to drink?” Natasha asks as she wanders into the kitchen.

“Um. Water?” Steve asks nervously. He’s never slept over at a lady’s place. Even if it’s just for a nap. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to act.

“Oh my god, Steve.” Natasha sighs setting the water on the coffee table. “Sit, drink, sleep.”

“I just don’t generally sleep on other peoples couches.” Steve admits shyly. The only other person’s couch he’d ever slept on was, well, Bucky’s. And that was when they were kids. After that, any couch Bucky had belonged to Steve as well. Crashing anywhere he could find during the war didn’t count. What he thought was immediately after the war doesn’t either.

“Well you’re sleeping here.” Natasha says. “I have to do some work, but don’t mind me. Relax. I’ll chase off any nightmares.”

The half feral grin she shoots his way almost makes Steve feel bad for any nightmares he might have. “I’ll try.” He says cautiously.

She claps a supportive hand on his shoulder and moves back into the kitchen. Natasha starts to hum as she opens her bag and brings out some paperwork. It’s an old Russian lullaby that Mrs. Ivanov used to sing to Steve as a boy when he was too sick to get out of bed and his mother had to go to work.

He’s asleep before he can remember not to. It isn’t a surprise when he sees Bucky and Peggy in his dreams.

Senator Brandt is an insufferable moron. Not that Steve would ever say it out loud. But the gala Peggy had to attend is droning on and on. Though he has to admit that the ballroom is beautiful. Dancers adorn the dance floor like those newly discovered spinning star systems. There’s laughter and warmth and light.

But Galas and the like are not Steve’s thing. Someone always wants something from Captain America and he hates it. The only thing that makes it remotely bearable is Peggy’s grounding grip on his arm and the fact that Bucky keeps obscenely imitating the Senator when no one is looking.

Keys jingle in a lock and a door flies open. “Is that you Natasha?” A voice asks on a Gramophone.

Steve is awake in an instant, and feeling very disoriented jumps to his feet. Clint is standing in the entry way with his quiver slung easily over his shoulder and carrying a grocery bag. His eyes expertly track Steve’s movements. “Why is Cap in my apartment?”

“What?” Steve asks incoherently as Natasha stands.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” She says, easily kissing Clint on the cheek. Steve’s never been able to tell if their relationship is romantic or not. He’s sorry to say it’s a mystery that drives him the tiniest bit crazy. 

Natasha moves back into the kitchen and starts gathering her files. “Yes. But why is Cap, here?” Clint says again. 

At the same moment Steve realizes that this is not Natasha’s apartment. “You brought me to Clint’s apartment without his permission?” He demands.

Natasha shoots Steve a disappointed look that is completely undeserved, if she brought him to a house that isn’t even hers. He returns it. “Steve is supposed to be sleeping.” Natasha says.

“Oh. Okay.” Clint says easily. “Good to see you’re getting some sleep Cap. Do you mind if I make some food?”

“No?” Steve says uncertainly. Why is Clint asking if he can cook in his own house? 

The dream still nips at the corner of his mind and he’s still exhausted. So he’s also very confused about why Clint is so relaxed about Natasha bringing him into his house without permission.

Clint rolls his eyes in a very Natasha way and says. “Go back to sleep Steve. Natasha will probably return to S.H.I.E.L.D. but I’ll take next watch.”

It’s a testament to how tired he really is that Steve lays back down on the couch instead of arguing. Later he’ll be mad at Natasha for her dishonesty. But right now he can’t do anything but fall asleep to the sound of Clint moving around in the kitchen. He falls right back into the dream.

The Gala was as terrible as a gala can be, but after they get home promises to make up for it in spades. If the husky tone in Bucky’s voice and the mischief around Peggy’s lips is anything to go by, it promised to be a fun night. Until the alien crashes through their big bay windows in their dim breakfast room. He can’t find his shield or a gun. Bucky and Peggy are screaming.

Steve wakes up yelling and punches at the form hovering over him.

“Woah, man! Woah! Watch the nose!” Clint’s voice exclaims as he dodges his fist. “Ow. Fuck. You’re strong.”

Steve pulled the second punch when he realized it was Clint hovering over him. But it’d been a punch meant to kill. So Clint still had a nice red bruise blossoming across his cheek bone. 

“Oh god.” Steve says, sitting up quickly and reaching out to see the damage he’s done. “Clint, I’m so…”

“Don’t worry about it, Steve.” Clint cuts him off before he can apologize. “I was late on my weekly black eye anyways. I don’t look right without one.”

“Yeah but.” Steve tries again while Clint vaults over the back of the couch to perch on the back. He tucks his cold toes under Steve’s calf. The contact is nice, so Steve doesn’t complain.

“Don’t worry about it, really.” Clint says again. “If you want to make it up to me, tell me what you were dreaming about. At first I wasn’t sure it was a nightmare.” Clint winks at him, “But it’s kind of obvious now that it was. What happened?”

“Don’t remember.” Steve says stubbornly. He absolutely can’t let anyone know about the dreams. It will worry them. People will want to fix them and it’s the only tie he has left to the world as he knew it.

Clint raises an eyebrow and nudges at Steve’s leg with his foot. Steve takes the hint and moves so Clint can sink down next to him. “Bullshit, Cap.” 

“I don’t.” Steve stares at Clint mulishly. He knows Clint knows he’s lying but he hopes that Clint won’t ask.

Clint holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine you don’t have to tell me, but you do have to stay for dinner.”

Steve looks out the window to see that the summer sun is fading into late evening. “I don’t know, I should probably head home.”

“No man, really” Clint says. “I made enough mac n’ cheese to feed a small army. You and your super metabolism have to help me out.” 

“Well, I guess I can stay to eat.” Steve says hesitantly. He’s never hung out with Clint individually and he’s afraid he’s going to overstay his welcome.

“Awesome.” Clint says and hands him the remote. “You stay here and find something worth watching. I’ll get the bowls.”

As Steve scrolls through the channels he hears Clint call from the kitchen. “We should do this again sometime.”

Steve isn’t sure what makes him agree. He’s glad he does.

It becomes a regular thing. Once or twice a week, when neither of them are on a mission, Steve crashes on Clint’s couch and then they have dinner. Sometimes Natasha joins them, she generally silently slips in during Steve’s nap. But most of the time it’s just Steve and Clint.

Steve’s still a little annoyed with Natasha for lying to him about where she was taking him when she first brought him here. No. That’s not quite right. He’s thankful that she did it. He just can’t trust the lie. Isn’t sure that she won’t do it again. It’s put a strain in their relationship but they’re able to work around it.

Things get tolerable with Clint and Natasha. The grief gets lighter. It’s still there, still heavy. Nightmares and the dream still plague his sleep, sometimes becoming so entwined that he tries to never sleep again. But Clint and Nat never let him go far with that. It helps.

But nothing lasts forever. Clint gets caught up in some bad business and has to go to ground. Steve worries but Natasha assures him that Clint is happy as a coup of chickens wherever he is. The way she winks at him tells Steve it’s a hint of some kind. But he doesn’t get it, doesn’t really want to know past the fact that Clint is well. Natasha disappears more than her mission schedule requires. Steve suspects she’s visiting Clint. He’s glad they have each other.

A few weeks later Steve learns that Peggy is alive. He’s ecstatic. He’s terrified. He has to see her more than he needs to breathe.

The nursing home has that neatly antiseptic smell he’s learned to associate with modern hospitals. But it can’t completely cover the smell of age and illness. It breaks Steve’s heart a little and he isn’t sure why. 

Steve’s been told that Peggy had a great life. He’s extremely proud and very sad.

He grips the flowers he’d brought her tighter and steels himself to see his best girl. They’d explained that her memory was no longer sharp. That she didn’t recognize people, or thought they were someone else. That she sometimes got confused about where she was. When he said he understood he meant it more than the over sympathetic nurse could ever understand.

It worried Steve but it didn’t make him love her any less. No matter what, Peggy Carter was an amazing woman. Steve knew that like he knew how to smile.

The first glimpse he gets of Peggy in seventy, or was it two, years is over the bright purple of a nurse’s scrubs. Peggy, soft curls now an iron grey, is staring out a window. She’s lost in some fractured memory.

He’s got rivulets of water streaming down his hands from the flowers. It’s dripping all over the carpet and making his hand slippery. It doesn’t matter because she’s still here. And that simple fact makes her the most beautiful person in Steve’s world.

“Ms. Peggy?” The nurse says grinning widely. “You have a guest.”

Peggy slowly brings her gaze over to them. Her eyes widen and light up in recognition. Then light is hidden behind shutters and Peggy very politely addresses the nurse. “Judith, I’m afraid I’m not prepared for an interview. I wish I could help this young man with his paper, but perhaps one of the many biographies written on Steve could help.”

“But, Ms. Peggy. This isn’t Billy.” The nurse, Judith, starts to explain.

“I’m not a student Pegs.” Steve said, easily stepping around the nurse.

“Do I know you?” Peggy asked harshly. Then as if realizing her tone wasn’t appropriate for a visitor. “I’m sorry, it’s just I get confused sometimes. And you look so much like someone who was very dear to me, I can’t seem to unsee it.”

“Peggy.” Steve breaths. Stepping forward to take her hand. “You aren’t seeing things. It’s me.”

Her breath catches like she can’t believe it. “Steve?” She asks weakly, and for a minute Steve thinks he’s made Peggy cry. But she’s always been as tough as nails, even when she was at her weakest. She doesn’t.

“Oh, Steve.” Peggy says covering his hand with her frail, age marked one. “How is this possible?”

Steve reaches out with a leg to pull the guest chair near her bed closer to himself and tells the story.

He partially leaves out the dreams. Makes it sound like Clint and Natasha took him in over nightmares.

“Go easy on the Black Widow, Steve.” Peggy reprimands when he brings up his anger over Natasha’s deception. “I’ve seen the way she was raised. In such rough conditions that she probably doesn’t know how to be any other way. What’s important is that she obviously cares.”

Steve starts to apologize. He knows this, really. Peggy doesn’t let him get to it, it’s already forgiven.

“But, I’m glad.” Peggy says when he’s finished talking. “I’m glad you get to live your life as I lived mine.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t there for it.” He starts but Peggy shushes him with a gentle touch.

“No, the world needs you now.” She reassures him. “I just hope you find happiness, Steve.”

The conversation turns to Peggy filling him on the last 70 years. She tells him how each of the commandos lived their lives. Steve understands Tony a little better after Peggy tells him about going around New York with Howard’s butler looking for Howard’s exes.

She falls asleep not long after that. Steve somehow feels both lighter and sadder than he did before.

The dreams get worse again, even though Peggy’s presence in them fades some. He has at least made some peace with that particular missed opportunity.

Steve stops sleeping. Which is when he meets Sam, who sees the insomnia and heart break. He’s the type of friend that could have cut through all of Steve’s bullshit and set him back on the straight and narrow. If he’d had the chance.

But Fury is nearly killed by the mysterious Winter Soldier who turns out to be Bucky and it’s like Steve’s world ended again. He teams [ up with Sam and Natasha, his trust in her restored by Natasha’s loyalty and Peggy’s words. His heart aches the entire time.

There’s so many pieces of various versions of Steve’s world scattered all over the damn planet. He no longer knows how he could even start to put himself together again. Isn’t sure there’s a solid foundation to build on. But he tries anyway. After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. Steve becomes obsessed with finding Bucky.

He tries to explain it to Sam. But words constantly fail him. 

When Steve is released from the hospital it’s under strict orders to take it easy. Natasha makes it clear to Sam that she expects him to make sure Steve takes it easy. She goes to ground. Steve suspects she’s with Clint. He’s still glad they have each other.

Sam seems to believe that the best way to make Steve take it easy is to have Steve stay with him. Sam knows that Steve sleeps better when there’s someone near him. So he expects for Steve to sleep some. But Steve doesn’t. The dreamscape of a life never lived has turned into a horror story always crashed by The Winter Soldier.

Sam keeps dropping more and more hints that Steve needs to sleep or talk or something. Steve ignores them all.

Finally Sam has had enough. He sits by Steve on the couch with a soda one day and says, “I think we should start our search for your boy in Brooklyn.”

Steve’s hand pauses on the crossword puzzle he was completing. “I thought you wanted me to be cleared by the doctors first.”

“No one’s going to clear you for anything with the way you’ve been not sleeping.” Sam counters derisively. “So, I’ve decided I’m willing to check out your guys old stomping grounds. Maybe do a bit of non-engaging surveillance if anything turns up. Only non-engaging surveillance, Steve. But.”

“I knew there would be a ‘but’.” Steve sighs.

“But,” Sam says insistently, “You’ve got tell me about those nightmares. Bonus points if you tell me about the good dreams that wake you up in an even worse state then the nightmares.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve insists mechanically. It’s second nature now to deny that the dreams exist. 

Sam raises an eyebrow at him and takes a sip of his coke and says “That’s not what Natasha says.”

“Really?” Steve asks knowing he’s about to get a lecture.

“She says you have some kind of good dream that’s so terrible that you wake up looking like a lost puppy for days. She thinks that’s what’s keeping you from sleeping, but she says you won’t talk about it to her or some guy named Clint.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Steve insists, setting his crossword aside and stretching out his legs. “It’s just a dream. My problem. I don’t know why everyone won’t just drop it.”

“Because we’re your friends and we worry about you man.” Sam says patiently. “I don’t like that you’re suffering, Steve. I want to help.”

“You do help.” Steve says. “They’re just dreams, Sam.”

Sam sighs and mutters something about stubborn asshole super soldiers. “Fine. I’ll leave it alone for now, but you have to talk to someone at some point, Buddy. Bottling it up isn’t good for you.” Sam says. Steve starts to protest but Sam steamrolls right over it. “And you have got to sleep if you’re going to search for your boy. It just has to happen. Okay?”

That night Steve tries to sleep. He doesn’t enjoy worrying his friends after all. It’s not like he does it on purpose. Well, he kind of does. It’s more complicated than that.

He tries though because his need to avoid the dreams is overridden by his desire to keep his friends happy and his need to find Bucky. 

He sleeps in Sam’s guest room and he dreams that he and Bucky are walking through Brooklyn. Visiting Bucky’s parents he thinks. Peggy’s at work.

All the Barnes kids are out of the house and married now but Steve and Bucky try to make it back home as often as possible. Something was wrong about that thought but he’s not sure what. As they’re walking Bucky is pulled into an alley by The Winter Soldier. Bucky doesn’t come out and Steve wakes up crying.

He needs, something. He gets up and wanders into the kitchen hoping to find whatever it is he needs. He feels lost. It’s like watching Bucky fall from the train all over again. He can’t take this anymore.

Sam finds him staring into the fridge. All he can think of is watching Bucky die, over and over and over again. 

Yawning hugely Sam says, “Need a midnight snack, man?”

Steve looks at Sam blankly. Still at a loss because it feels like the only thing he’s capable of doing is losing the people he loves. Either in reality or in sleep.

“Yeah, me too.” Sam continues, reaching around him for some food. “Have you had Nutella yet? No? Well, I’m going to make you a Nutella banana sandwich, you can thank me later.”

Sam moves Steve to the kitchen table and sets a glass of milk in front of him before setting to work on the sandwiches. Steve really loves Sam. He doesn’t press for info right away. Lets Steve step away from his rough night on his own. Fills the air with seemingly mindless chatter about the VA all while watching Steve carefully.

“Drink your milk, Steve.” He commands between stories while slicing bananas when it becomes apparent that Steve is struggling with coming back. “I’m not going to be responsible for Captain America passing out due to low blood sugar.”

Steve drinks his milk and listens to Sam and when a sandwich made with some sort of gooey filling is placed in front of him he’s ready to talk.

“I’ve been dreaming about Bucky.” He confesses once Sam has taken a bite. “We’re just doing normal stuff like visiting his parents or hanging out in the apartment and then The Winter Soldier comes in and kills him. And it’s like I’m rooted to the earth. I can’t save either of them. It’s unbearable.”

Steve is careful to leave out that he’s basically been having an epic dream for over seventy years. That every time he goes to sleep it’s more like going back to his other life. Sam doesn’t need to know that.

Sam finishes his bite. Sets his sandwich down and looks at Steve curiously. “And why do you think you keep dreaming that?”

Steve pushes his food aside so he can rest his forehead on the table. “I don’t know. But it used to be any time I closed my eyes I’d see him falling away from me. I’d hear Peggy telling me good-bye and then see her having lived her life without me. And now this.” It’s not the truth but it’s kind of like the truth. It’s what Steve is feeling at least.

“It’s like my world is getting unmade every day, Sam. And I lose the people that matter every time. It’s killing me.” All of this is said to Steve’s shoes. He can’t handle Sam’s pity.

Sam sighs and leans over to clap a supportive hand on Steve’s shoulder. All Steve really wants is a hug, but that apparently goes against modern convention. “That’s a lot of grief and guilt for one guy to be carrying around, Steve.”

“I just keep losing them.” Steve says heartbrokenly. “I can’t. I have to find Bucky.”

Sam just pulls his chair closer and waits until Steve looks up at him expectantly. “So, I’m going to take the hard line and tell you something I think you already know but won’t like, man.”

“And what’s that?” Steve asks, trying not to sound bitter.

“Let it go.” Sam says. His tone of voice is gentle but Sam’s eyes are as stubborn as Steve has ever seen them. “You can’t let this eat you alive. Not if we’re going to find your boy, and definitely once you find him. He’s going to need you Steve, everything you’ve got he’s going to need. You can’t be mourning him and feeling guilty about it. Not when he’s right there with you.”

“You think I don’t wish it were that easy?” Steve snaps. Then he feels bad because it’s not Sam he’s mad at, it’s himself.

“I know it’s not.” Sam says. “Almost every person that comes to group therapy sessions is there. I’ve been there. I get it, Steve. But you’ve got to drop the fallen martyr crap and fight for having a life. If not for yourself, then for James.”

Steve sighs, his shoulders bow. Sam’s right but he’s so lost. The weight of his grief, the weight of his guilt is so heavy. He feels like Atlas. If he tries to get out from under the weight of his personal sky, it will surely crush him. “I don’t know how.”

Sam claps him on the shoulder and nudges his plate towards him. “For now, eat, sleep. We’ll talk about visualization and grounding in the morning. Then we’ll start our search for Barnes.”

“Oh. Okay.” Steve says dumbly. He’s suddenly very tired. But at the same time it’s a kind of tired weariness that he’s been familiar with his whole life. Soldier on Rogers, he tells himself sternly. “Sounds good.”

That afternoon they find a HYDRA base in Brooklyn. Sam is only mildly horrified when Steve steals the clues about Bucky and burns it to the ground. Fleeing from the scene while fire trucks flood the surrounding area in rivers of ashy water.


	2. I Had to Go Through Hell to Prove I'm Not Insane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd update next week. But, it's been a particularly horrible past couple of days. So here's a surprise update.

Even with the rain coat he lifted off the back of a truck in the last town’s main square, rain plinks softly off the metal arm. It doesn’t bother Barnes exactly. He’s definitely worked in worse conditions, even before. It’s only a concern because his current mark is a Black Widow. The best Black Widow if his hazy memories and the media is to be believed. And if she so much as suspects she has a tail he’s going to lose her. 

Barnes intention is not to harm the Black Widow. He’s actually coming to her for help. But she and he are both on the run. It’s not a situation that encourages knocking on her front door and asking. 

He doesn’t even know where her current safe house is. Which is why he’s tailing her. 

Breaking programming hadn’t magically fixed everything. If anything it felt like things are getting worse. He is able to function within mission parameters like find the Black Widow. But that is it. 

He is always hungry, thirsty, tired, sore, dirty, weak, and malfunctioning and he can’t consistently remember to fix any of it. To make matters worse he keeps losing time to before. The glint of light off dull barbed wire will jolt a bad memory and the next thing he knows an hour will have passed. He’d be somewhere else with no idea of how he got there.

Barnes current state is not one of functioning. Normally he would go to his handlers for that. That is no longer an option and he can’t handle seeing Steve yet. He doesn’t know much but he knows Steve’s well-meaning pity would cut deeper than any blade could. Finding out that Steve righteously hates him for all he’d done would be even worse.

He chose the Widow who was not with the Red Room as his mark because if anyone could help Barnes, she could. That is if he can find her safe house.

Being reminded of his goal is what causes him to realize he’s lost time again. He’s standing in the middle of a corn field in Iowa. There’s no sign of the Widow.

He’s done his research, remembers enough to know this should make him angry or at the very least frustrated. But that’s just another thing that’s wrong, another reason he needs help. Because Barnes doesn’t feel anything. He just sighs and starts heading in the direction he’d last thought she was going. 

He was going to lose the Widow. That was certain. But he’d look around and start the search again in the morning.

The rain starts falling harder and the temperature begins to drop. The next field over he can faintly see the fat figures of cows coming in from pasture to take shelter in a barn.

Barnes realizes he should do that to, but he’s not rooming with a bunch of cows. He thinks he’d slept in a barn with cows before and didn’t enjoy the experience.

Luckily there’s another barn on the next farm over. It houses farming equipment, chicken feed, a couple of goats, and a few bales of hay. Most importantly it’s cozy, dry, and warm. 

Barnes beds down in the hay for the night. Making sure he has lots of cover. He’ll be gone before dawn.

He doesn’t dream. Or maybe he does, but he doesn’t remember it.

Barnes can’t remember a time he’s been this warm. He wants to stay in this haze of warmth and safety forever. But there are eyes on him.

He’s kneeling in hay with his gun pointed at his mark before he has time to realize that it’s a golden dog. It’s lazily pointing at Barnes, posture perfect but its tongue lolling out to give it a relaxed air. They are at an impasse, an unwinnable staring match. Barnes won’t kill such a beautiful ridiculous dog and the dog is waiting.

A man enters the barn. Listening to him walk, Barnes can tell he’s medium height, weighs about 180 pounds. His footsteps indicate he’s light on his feet, a fighter.

“Thor’s luscious golden locks, Lucky!” The man exclaims before he rounds the corner. “I swear if you’ve made friends with another raccoon...” The threat trails off as the man rounds the corner. Striking blue eyes instantly locking on the way Barnes is holding his gun. “Woah, Buddy!” The man says. He has a cut on his eyebrow and a faded bruise on his jaw. He wears them well.

Barnes notes that his eyes immediately recognize him. For a flash there’s a depth of understanding there that is flavored like pity but doesn’t burn quite as bitterl. Then a mask of absolute calm is snaps into place. “Hey, now. How about we lower the gun, and talk about this? Lucky, go sit.”

The dog goes to where the man points, open space to the left and further back. It is no longer a threat. Barnes holsters his weapon. He wouldn’t need it anyway. 

Barnes doesn’t run because he’s intrigued by this farmer who is a fighter, who recognizes him. He doesn’t fight because something tells him this guy will help Barnes.

“You look like you’ve been on the run for a while.” The man says. “My names Clint, by the way. I think we have a mutual friend by the name of Captain Tight Pants, though most people think it’s Rogers. Anyways you can totally stay here if you want. We don’t even have to tell Nat if you guys are still playing super spies against each other. I mean, I am going to have to ask that you don’t attack her. I don’t want to explain that to Steve. But, I don’t think that’s what you’re after anyways. But you can stay here. There’s blankets in the old…” the man keeps talking but Barnes stops listening.

Barnes stares at the man. Rambling is a tactic used by spies to throw their mark off. Clint picks up on his stare. “What do I have pizza on my face?” The dog, Lucky, barks and wags his tail.

“I don’t have pizza right now!” The man tells his dog like they’ve been through this a few times. 

“What do you want from me?” Barnes asks abruptly. Clint had offered to let him stay, but why? He had to make sure it wasn’t a trap.

“You were following Nat, right?” Barnes doesn’t know who that is.

“The Black Widow?” He provides. “I assume you were trying to track her to her safe house. I think you were looking for help.”

That’s when it finally occurs to Barnes perpetually sluggish mind that this man must be Clint Barton. He wouldn’t just know Steve. He’s an Avenger with the codename Hawkeye. He was one of Steve’s inner circle. “He can’t find me.”

Clint frowns. “Dude, we’re not going to let HYDRA near you.”

Barnes eyes harden, he won’t let HYDRA near him either. “That’s not the concern.”

The furrow of Hawkeye’s brow deepens. “Steve. You mean Steve? Why not? He misses you like crazy, is worrying himself to death.”

“I’m not ready.” Barnes grits out. He misses Steve more than he think’s he’d miss his arm if they hadn’t replaced it. But he can’t deal with Steve right now. Can’t deal with all he stands for, both personally and as a national hero. Bucky has to know what some of the stuff in his head means first. He won’t be unmade again, just because he can’t live without Steve Rogers.

The calming look and body language come back in spades. “Okay. Okay.” Clint says. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to. Okay?”

Barnes nods slowly, believing Clint’s earnest tone. Now that he’s not under immediate threat he’s feeling sluggish again. 

“Good.” Clint say’s. There’s a pause as Barton looks around. “You’re going to need supplies. I hope you don’t mind if we don’t tell ‘Tasha right away. She’s not going to be happy that I took in her relentless tracker without at least consulting her. But I also am not leaving a friend out in the cold.”

Barnes didn’t really care. He was warmer than he had been in years, safer. The word friend registered in his mind but had little to no meaning.

Clint must have read Barnes acceptance on his face because he stood. “Okay good. I’ll go get you some food and then run to the store for some things you’ll need. You can eat and sleep. I’ll figure out how to let ‘Tasha know.” Clint claps Barnes on the shoulder and it feels like the chair’s cold metal clamp meant to hold him down.

He must lose time again. The next thing he’s aware of is Clint returning with what he proudly declares is a hot oven bake pizza with everything on it, chocolate, and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. The word Dorito sends Clint into a laughing fit. Barnes thinks Barton is very strange and if his head were clearer he thinks he would like him for it. 

Barnes shoots him an inquisitive look, inviting him to explain the joke. “I’ll explain later.” Clint says. “I have to leave now if want to make it to town. But if you’re here when I get back, I’ll explain. You’ll enjoy it I think” 

With that Clint is gone. Distantly Barnes hears the engine of truck turn over a few minutes later. The dog stays to keep him company.

The food makes him nauseous. It’s got too much flavor. He’s used to nothing but protein shakes. He doesn’t try more than a bite of everything before bedding back down. The dog, Lucky, cautiously noses his way over to rest next to him.

It’s soothing having another living being with him. Barnes offers Lucky some of the pizza recalling his reaction to the word. The offer seems to make them friends. When Barnes lies down Lucky curls up protectively besides him.

He doesn’t get past a doze before the barn door opens loudly. The footsteps that follow are so light as to be nearly imperceptible. It’s the Widow. He remembers Barton calling her Natasha.

Lucky barks a greeting, giving away their position. He thinks ‘traitor’ at the dog, but he’s oddly not angry. 

The Widow, Natasha, appears a moment later. She’s unarmed, not that it matters except for showing that she doesn’t intend to attempt to kill him immediately. Her body language is relaxed. But it’s her face that keeps him from lunging at her. Her eyes are calculating but not unkind and she’s wearing a sarcastic little smirk he thinks once would have been found on his own face.

She observes the barely eaten food, and Lucky’s marinara stained jowls, and looks back at Barnes. The smirk now reaching her eyes. “My husband is an idiot.”

Barnes can only frown in confusion at the strange statement. She offers him a hand up. “I can get you some food you should be able to manage before Clint gets back from the store with probably even more pizza.”

Barnes looks down at the pizza that was too rich for him and he thinks maybe she understands why he can’t eat it. If anyone would understand it would be her. It’s why he wanted her help.

The hand in his line of sight fills his mind with thoughts of contact poisons and blank eyes staring up at him from pools of various bodily fluids. He looks into her eyes, wary but not unkind, and takes her hand. 

Taking that first step didn’t magically make everything get better. Things do improve. At first there’s awful days peppered by bad days. He only picks up a few memories here and there, most are stained in blood. He only nearly kills somebody once or twice a day when he has what Natasha calls a panic attack. And learns how to come back from losing time. Starts to be able to identify his needs and emotions again.

Then there are bad days peppered by awful days with the occasional okay day to give him hope. He remembers more about Steve. Very rarely tries to kill the farms other occupants in fits of panic and starts being able to feel enough to know he’s depressed. He’s not great, he’s not ready to see Steve, but he knows he’s getting better.

Most of his time is spent along the farm’s river. It’s more of a creek really but they call it a river. It’s calming. Has spots that are strategically secure. He can go to the river and break down. Go to the river and be safe.

Sometimes he thinks of drowning himself. Sometimes he wishes that the little walls of the river were towering cliffs that he could throw himself from. To make all the self-hate and the fear and the all-consuming nothingness stop. But then he remembers that would disappoint Steve. So he stares at the swiftly moving surface instead, hoping it has answers.

He has Clint and Natasha to thank for most of his recovery. They both get what he needs in their own way.

Natasha is his rock. She understands what to do when he loses time, but doesn’t let him hide from the triggers. She just sits and waits for him to tell her where and when he’s at. Makes him identify what he’s feeling and why. She never judges what he has to say. 

She doesn’t get mad when he shoots a falling rake because he thought it was the stick one handler enjoyed beating him with. Just has him help her repair it and discuss ways he could disarm and analyze the threat without causing permanent damage. 

When he panics, convinced this is all a HYDRA set up, Natasha sits with him and breathes. They find the grounding exercises that work best. The best is modeled off how he used to get Steve’s breathing under control during an asthma attack. Except now he’s Steve. 

Natasha has him put a hand over her heart and a hand on her wrist, like he was checking her pulse. She does the same with him. The goal is simple, make his vitals match hers. Breathe with her, pump blood through his veins with her. It’s hard, takes all his concentration, and without fail brings him back to the present. 

He can’t help but wish it was Steve bringing him back to life. But he’s still not ready to face Steve. He’s too broken.

Where Natasha is Barnes’ rock, Clint is his air. He reminds Barnes what it is to be human. He always has Barnes help him on the farm. Barnes finds he likes splitting wood after a panic attack. After he’s spent an hour at the river behind the house staring at nothing, they play video games or watch movies. 

Once Clint and Natasha teach him a ridiculous game called would you rather. He thinks he would have once loved the game back in Brooklyn. Now he just loves it for the distraction and the relief it provides from worse, more intense, emotions.

When the anger bubbles over and Barnes goes silent with the need to scream and never stop, when he’s filled with the need to create death until all of HYDRA’s propagating heads bleed, Clint and Barnes take a couple of rifles and shoot old tin cans to shreds. 

The days and weeks bleed together. Barnes gets where he can stomach more than the blandest of foods. Eats Doritos with Clint, and yeah he has to admit that Steve’s current shoulders to waist ratio resembles the chip. But it’s still not that funny. 

His okay days get to be as numerous as his bad, with only a few terrible in between. He even has the occasional good day. The holes in his head and his heart fill in and Bucky starts to envision a future where he’s okay. Not fine, not normal, not all better. He understands that what happened wasn’t a fall and a scraped knee. He’s not going to come back the same but he’s learning how to fill in the fractures in his psyche and make them his. 

He learns that he really misses Steve. And he’s scared. Scared that Steve doesn’t miss him. At first he tries to hold it in. But it plays with his other ragged emotions. Adds to the fear of HYDRA that always simmers into a low rage and he has to spend more time at the river, more time shooting things.

Clint eventually takes notice. After a particularly intense shooting session Clint asks him what’s up. 

His serious expression would normally make the soldier uneasy, but the scrape across his nose that he got from trying to zipline across the farm makes him look so young. It makes him less threatening. “Look, I know you prefer to talk to ‘Tasha about stuff. I get it. She’s great for talking to about serious shit man. She’s good at helping. But what’s got you so worked up?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky, he mostly thinks of himself as Bucky these days, says. He’s hedging but the worry about Steve is stupid. Steve probably isn’t pining over him. He doesn’t need to lump it on Clint.

“Okay.” Clint says gathering himself. Which instantly tips Barnes off that he’s not saying this off the cuff. Has probably rehearsed what to say with Natasha. Which means she’s noticed too. “I respect that you need your space.” Clint said carefully. 

Bucky sighs. The defensiveness going right out of him in the face of Clint’s clumsy concern. He didn’t want hurt his new friends, which is a weird feeling. 

“How is Steve?” he asks abruptly. Hoping he can talk about it to Clint without actually talking about it. Then Clint and Natasha can stop worrying and maybe, just maybe, Bucky will feel better.

Clint frowns at him. “How do you mean? Is there any reason we should be worried?”

Bucky leans back, puts his feet out in front of him. Tries to keep it casual so Clint doesn’t see how worked up Bucky gets over this. “Nah. I just wonder sometimes.”

Anyone who thinks Clint Barton is stupid or slow needs to have their heads checked. Bucky expected to be a bit deeper in the conversation before Clint realized this wasn’t a subject change.

“You’re angry because you don’t know how Steve is?” He asks, sounding slightly confused. 

“No. Not really.” Bucky says hesitantly.

“Barnes, it sounds like you need to have this conversation with Steve.” Clint says. “You could call him? If you’re not willing to actually see him I’m sure he’d respect that.”

Bucky can’t help it. He laughs in Clint’s face. It’s a dry unused sound, as rough as all his jagged edges.

There are exactly three ways Steve might react to hearing Bucky’s voice. None of them involve Steve being able to curb his gut reaction to learning where Bucky is. Bucky wasn’t ready to find out what Steve will do.

“I can’t.” Bucky says decisively. “I need to know if he’s okay, but I can’t face him.”

Clint sighs. He obviously has several opinions on this but for once in his life he keeps them to himself. “From the bits I hear Steve’s hanging in there.”

Bucky frowns, that’s not what Clint was supposed to say. “He’s been injured?” He finally demands, that’s the only thing Bucky’s worried mind can provide for why Steve wouldn’t be fine.

“Nah. Physically he’s as fit as well, a super soldier.” Clint says waving in Barnes general direction.

“Then how do you mean?” Bucky asks with a hard glare.

Clint pulls a long piece of grass from the ground and chews on its stem thoughtfully. "Well it’s been awhile since I’ve seen Cap. But last I checked he wasn’t sleeping.” Clint finally admits.

“Serum keeps him from needing as much sleep.” Bucky informs Clint feeling relived. Steve was fine.

“Yeah, but he still can’t stay awake for more than a couple of days without feeling it.” Clint says softly.

Bucky feels his shoulders slump and starts tearing agitatedly at the ground. Steve wasn’t okay. The need to protect Steve surges though Bucky as white hot as the anger. It burns and he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Do you know why?” He asks, proud that his tone manages to stay even.

Clint shrugs and throws his blade of grass away from him before picking another one. “He never says. But sometimes when he’s passed out from sheer exhaustion he’ll say your name, or Peggy’s.” There were a thousand questions in Clint’s one statement. Questions Bucky couldn’t begin to answer. But one thing was clear, Steve did miss Bucky. He wasn’t as happy with that result as he thought he’d be. 

He didn’t reply because he didn’t have anything to say. Clint seemed to understand. Eventually the archer reached over and good naturedly slapped Bucky’s thigh. “Why don’t we make stew tonight, eh? We can eat it in the living room and watch a movie.”

Bucky agrees to that. It’s a good night.

After his conversation with Clint, Bucky starts obsessing over being well enough to see Steve. He reaches a point where he takes on more and more of the farms chores to prove his autonomy. He talks to Natasha more and jokes around with Clint. He even goes into town with the two of them a few times to interact with other people.

It’s nice, having a goal almost makes him feel normal. It’s still not perfect. Panic attacks sneak up on him. He still spends a lot of time by the river staring at the nothingness in his head where memories and emotions should be, and if he doesn’t shoot things with Clint at least twice a week an item of furniture will get broken in a fit of rage. But, things get better. 

One good morning Natasha sits next to him with a frankly disgusting bowl of Weetabix that she seems to think is delicious. He’s mapping out the best route to check the farms perimeter for broken fencing. One of the goats got out the other day and they aren’t sure how. 

“Clint’s going to have to start paying you if you work any harder, you know.” Natasha observes before eating a mouthful of milk dampened dried wheat patty. Bucky nearly gets up to make her an omelet just to keep her from torturing herself. He doesn’t believe for a second that she actually likes those things. 

“And give up his free super soldier serum powered labor?” Bucky smirks back. “I don’t believe it for a minute.”

“You’ve got somewhere I can get free super soldier serum powered labor from?” Clint asks from the stairs. It’s a testament to how much better he’s doing that Bucky doesn’t even startle at Clint’s sudden appearance.

Clint has a serious case of bedhead. It occurs to Bucky that he should get a camera next time they’re in town. Just in case he needs blackmail in the future.

Bucky gestures to himself. 

Clint scoffs. “Your work isn’t free.” He teases, a huge grin spreading across his face ruins the image of indifference. 

“You don’t pay me.” Bucky teases back. But makes sure to smile at Clint so he knows he’s not mad. If Clint even starts to think that Bucky wants to be paid he’ll insist. Bucky already owes Clint and Natasha everything. It’s a debt he knows they’ll never ask him to repay, not that he could.

Clint grins as Natasha’s phone goes off with a text alert and says, “I feed you!”

Bucky dramatically looks over to Lucky who had obediently followed Clint down the stairs. “He thinks I’m you.” He informs the dog worriedly. 

Clint just snorts in amusement and pushes past him to get some coffee. Dropping a kiss on Natasha’s head as he passes. There’s a moment of peaceful silence as Natasha reads her message and Clint pours his coffee.

“Any word on Steve?” Bucky asks into the quiet of the room. Just like he has every morning since he and Clint talked.

“I haven’t heard anything.” Clint murmurs into his mug while Natasha finishes reading.

“He’s hunting HYDRA.” She declares as she looks up from her phone. 

Bucky’s breath turns to ice in his chest, a litany of fuckfuckfuckfuck speeds through his head. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, he can’t speak, he can’t think except for the mind numbing fear that HYDRA will kill Steve and find Bucky.

Natasha breaks through it. She’s holding his hand over her heart taking deep exaggerated breaths. “With me Barnes.” She says, inhaling. “We’re safe in the farm’s kitchen, can you breathe with me? Smell that? It’s Clint burning his toaster waffles.”

Bucky snorts and starts trying to breathe with her. Slowly, breathing with Nat takes precedence over the future danger Steve faces. Natasha doesn’t stop breathing with him until he’s completely calm. 

Once he can speak again without it coming out as an incomprehensible frantic frenzy of words he says, “I need at least daily updates on what’s going on.”

Natasha stays right where she is. “Of course. I’ve already told Sam I want updates once a day if they’re just researching and three times a day when they’re close to running a mission. I’ll share everything I know with you.”

“Okay.” He says, feeling wrung out.

“Do you want to go after him?” Natasha asks gently while Bucky stands to go sit by the river for a while.

He thinks about it, harder than he ever has. He nearly says yes. But he’s not ready yet. Doesn’t know how Steve fits into what he’s made of himself and is too scared to find out.

“No, not yet. Only if he gets his stupid ass in trouble.” Bucky says, not mentioning that trouble with Steve is inevitable. He pauses by the counter to grab a banana. He doesn’t even like modern bananas but Natasha and Clint will fret if he doesn’t eat something for breakfast.

“I’m going to check the fencing.” He says as he leaves.

The river is quiet. Ducks float along with it, dipping their heads in the clear shallow waters. He sits and tries to clear the fear spinning through his mind.

An hour later the anger sets in. HYDRA should have been burned from the earth in the 1940s. He should be helping Steve burn them from the earth now. Bucky should be protecting Steve, not hiding out on some farm. Steve would never go to ground.

He’s filled with the need to do something destructive. But before he actually starts destroying things he remembers what Nat taught him. That the negative energy can be pushed into constructive action. 

He’s supposed to fix fences but there’s also an old dead oak tree that needs to be torn down before it falls on someone. Hard physical labor used to help him work out his tension when Steve was dying of pneumonia and he was helpless to save him. Bucky grabs an axe.

Clint finds him an hour or so later. By that point he’s chopping the oak into firewood.

Clint just shakes his head and mutters “Super soldiers.” To himself before setting the next piece of wood for Bucky to split.

“Nat’s worried.” He says after they’ve worked together for a while. “She’s trying to hide it, but she wants to know you’re okay.”

Bucky splits another log. This time with a lot less vehemence than he’s put into the last fifty or so. 

“We can go see her for lunch.” He offers, wiping his brow with his normal hand. The metal one doesn’t actually take water with it and just gets slippery.

Clint agrees enthusiastically. And they really set to demolishing what remains of the old dead tree.

Lunch with Natasha, who generally stays at the house to keep up with the spy side of three spies on a farm, becomes a regular occurrence. He’s shocked when Natasha and Clint casually start asking his opinion on some of their operations. 

“I need to e-mail Umid to cancel that arms deal for Thursday.” Natasha says casually. “James what reason do you think I should use. I have to make sure it causes him to meet up with my seller on his own.”

It only takes a moment for Bucky to get over the fact that she’s discussing her top secret work with him. Honest. “Tell him the seller backed out but you’re willing to give him the location for half of the pay. But makes sure the other party thinks the deal is going down. If you have the building surrounded it won’t matter if they accidentally meet up and realize they’ve been played.”

Clint grunts. “That’s a good one”  
“Oh, come on.” Bucky says feeling slightly insulted. “That’s like on the first ten pages in how to be an undercover operative for dummies. What are you guys up to?”

“You owe me ptichye moloko!” Clint says pointing wildly at his wife. “I knew he’d catch on early!”

Natasha just raises an eyebrow at her husband. “That is not the polite way to ask someone to make you treats Clint.”

Bucky stares at Clint hardly believing that the archer had just yelled ‘you owe me bird milk!’ But there isn’t any other meaning for the phrase as far as he knows. It isn’t his fault when he can’t seem to stop laughing.

“What’s so funny!” Clint demands. Natasha grins wolfishly.

“Your code name is Hawkeye?” Bucky asks in disbelief.

“Of course!” Clint says defensively, not liking getting laughed at. “I’ve never missed a shot!”

“And your favorite Russian treat is ptichey moloko?” He asks just as evenly.

“So?” Clint asks only getting more confused.

Bucky chuckles a bit more and shakes his head before turning to Natasha. “Who did you have to kill to have Hawkeye’s favorite desert be Birds Milk.”

Bucky felt warm all over when Natasha’s permanently secretive smile was tinged with amusement. “I may be preparing you to join the team James, but that’s still highly classified.”

“But, what?” Clint splutters.

Natasha gets up to retrieve the pizza they had been baking from the oven. “Don’t hurt yourself dear.” She says kissing Clint’s cheek as she passes. For reasons he refuses to examine too closely it makes Bucky think of Steve.

They get a report on Steve that night while they’re watching the evening news.

Natasha’s cell phone rings. She quickly mutes the telecaster talking about the price of gasoline to answer the phone. “Evening, Sam.” She says warmly. “I trust you’re calling with a status report.”

Sam gave some long winded response. Thanks to Clint Bucky knew that Sam was the guy whose wings he had torn off on the hellicarriers, The whole thing seemed to require several encouraging “uh-huh’s” from Natasha.

“Are you going to need back up?” She asks when the man’s side of the conversation seems to be done. Bucky had been listening passively. Expecting that Natasha would ask him to verify some intel Steve and the man on the phone had gained as soon as she hung up. Now Natasha had his full attention.

“Alright. I believe you. Don’t let Steve do anything stupid, we’re here if you need us.” She said with a smile before hanging up.

“It’s fine. They’re both fine.” Are the first words out of her mouth. “They’re going to do a raid on the base in Michigan that you said was deserted this morning.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. So far Steve’s mission to destroy HYDRA seemed to be going well. Excluding a couple of small skirmishes and one incident that required Iron Man extracting them. He’d nearly had a heart attack over that.

He nearly asks when she will be expecting a report. But stops himself, this isn’t an organization any more. There are no mission reports, sit reps, or returning to base. “Are they going to send you a text when they’re done?”

Natasha nods. “Of course. I’ll let you know the second I know something.”

Clint had been quietly listening to the exchange. Now he smiles at Bucky. “It will be fine, you already know the base is abandoned.”

“Yeah I know.” Bucky sighs. “But worrying about Steve is more ingrained than the HYDRA conditioning.” He’s surprised when he makes the joke. Wasn’t aware he was at place he could even sort of joke about it. It made him feel good.

Clint just rolls his eyes, though the lines around his mouth tell Bucky he’s perfectly aware of what a huge step Bucky just made. 

“So are we going to watch a movie or just watch the news all night?” Clint asks after a moment.

They all make themselves comfortable on the couch and start the long hard process of channel surfing. 

A few days later Clint misses lunch with Natasha because one of the neighbors had some kind of problem with his farm equipment. Clint had headed over to help him with that because apparently he owed George several favors.

“I missed you this morning.” Natasha says neutrally while they sit down to eat. They normally train in the morning. But that morning Bucky had to go to deal with his thoughts by the river. 

It’s a simple meal of sandwiches and potato chips. Bucky makes his cucumber and mustard sandwich quickly. He’s not quite sure where he picked up the recipe. Though he now remembers all of his life’s overall narrative and the important memories, small details like that are still fuzzy. He knows how to make it like he knows how to shoot a gun though. Completely naturally.

Natasha looks over at what he’s making and groans. “Not you too.” She despairs. “I don’t know how Steve stomachs those things.”

Well now he knows where he learned the recipe. “It’s good to me.” He says shrugging.

She rolls her eyes. “That’s what Steve says.”

Bucky can’t keep from smiling. “I bet he’s a total punk about it too.”

Natasha snorts and sets down her chicken salad. “Something like that.”

There’s silence for a bit while they eat their food. Then Natasha says, “I’ve got news about Steve, nothing bad, just a mission update. But first I have a question.”

“We don’t have to talk about me, doll.” Bucky says charmingly when he realizes she’s taken up her very serious ‘We’re going to talk’ pose.

“Don’t be a baby, Barnes.” She says reminding Bucky very slightly of Peggy.

“I’ll be wary till I know what you want, Nat.” Bucky counters keeping his eyes bright, but his tone turns serious.

Natasha smiles and nods like she wouldn’t expect anything less. “I’ll just put it out there then.” She says easily. “How long have you been in love with Steve?”

The breath catches in Bucky’s throat again. But it’s not a panic attack this time. It’s something that stems from an older fear. Nobody, including Steve, should ever know that Bucky loved Steve. The consequences would be terrible.

But here he was. Natasha was asking him point blank. Not how long had he once loved Steve. But how long has he been in love with Steve, present. And he knows with blinding suddenness that the answer is the same as it was after he fell from the train, during the war, in their Brooklyn apartment, in the school yard. 

Forever. He’s loved Steve forever.

Bucky sits there dumbly holding his sandwich. For once in his life he’s completely unable to come up with a suave answer. If he doesn’t soon, Natasha will go in for the kill and Bucky doesn’t know how to handle that. Luckily he doesn’t have to.

The screen door to the porch bangs open and Clint is filling the room with sound. Bucky has to suppress the urge to shoot at the loud noise first and ask questions later. But it’s gotten so easy he is barely aware of it. 

“Guys!” Clint bellows, “We’ve got to go now. There’s trouble in Ohio.”

Natasha and Bucky are moving for their get out bags before Clint has finished speaking. “What trouble?” Natasha asks as she throws a couple of guns to Bucky. He catches them and straps the holsters to the appropriate parts of his body. It’s still second nature but now the actions are purely his. 

“JARVIS just texted.” Clint says opening the door for them as they run for the jeep. “They were going after a HYDRA base.”

“The one in Toledo?” Bucky asks, swearing under his breath when Clint nods in confirmation. “How bad is it?”

“They’re pinned down.” Clint says as he throws his bag in the back of the truck. “Hopefully we can get there in time to extract them before they’re captured.”

Everyone jumps in the truck and Clint continues. “Starks picking us up in the west field in five. You’re up for an air drop, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could say I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, but I'm not. See y'all next chapter.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr! awanderingmuse-assemble


	3. Each Time I Think You Go, I Turn and You're Creepin' In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this to you guys. I hope you enjoy it. We're back to Steve's point of view.

“I am putting you in a bed for a month when this is over!” Sam threatens as they run for cover. 

The comms unit in Steve’s ear beeps four times to indicate that four people have joined their line. Dodging another bullet, Steve wonders who Stark brought with him as backup. He’s about to ask but Sam speaks before he can.

“Do Steve’s plans always end in outnumbered shootouts?” Sam demands over the line. “Cause this is the third mission I’ve been on with him that ends this way.” 

As Sam speaks they take cover behind one of the massive conveyer belts that move rock from one place to another in the concrete factory that HYDRA was using as a cover for their base. Apparently it wasn’t as small as they’d hoped, more like the largest still functioning base in North America.

“No!” Steve denies vehemently. It’s not like there’s anyone here who’s worked with him on this type of thing enough to disagree. Except, apparently there is.

“Yes.” A familiar smooth voice says dryly over the unit. “He’s a trouble magnet.”

“Steve.” Natasha’s voice cuts in. “Stark’s about to swoop in from directly above you. Clint will be providing cover fire from your six. Barnes and I are coming in at your ten and two. Where’s the best escape point?”

“Have you gotten the maps yet?” Bucky interjects. His tone allows for no nonsense, he’s completely focused on the mission now. It’s like he was never gone. 

Steve briefly wonders if he and Sam are still driving to Ohio and he’s fallen asleep. His mind has most recently started tricking him into believing Bucky is by his side in the present when he isn’t.

He doesn’t reply. Over the comms Clint prompts him. “Steve?”

“Yeah, and some glowing piece of alien technology.” Steve says. He feels almost giddy with delight and exhaustion. This has to be real. “Looked important so we took it.”

“Oh goody, new toys!” Stark says gleefully. A second later a ball of white-blue light blows a sniper that had climbed on top of the building off his feet. Arrows start picking off targets from their six.

“The best escape point, boys.” Natasha reminds them sternly. Steve can now hear both her and Bucky’s fire fights at his ten and two. Bucky has to be at Steve and Sam’s ten because that’s where all the shouting of “It’s the Winter Soldier! Run!” is coming from.

The group meets up and blasts their way out of the facility. Then they’re running. Steve wants to say something. To stop to hug his best friend and never let go. That has to come after though.

They run and Steve keeps stumbling. It’s like when he first got the serum. He can’t quite navigate his body right. Maybe this is what Sam meant by it being a bad idea to go on missions sleep deprived? 

A vice like grip grabs Steve’s right elbow. Then his arm is being pulled over muscular shoulders. He glances over to see Bucky supporting his weight. “Just a little bit further Stevie.” He murmurs soothingly. “Nat says we’re almost to the extraction point.” 

Steve grins stupidly as they burst into a clearing with a chopper running in the center, blades idly turning.

Hill is sitting in the pilot’s seat. “Let’s go!” Steve hears her yell over the noise. They jump into the copter and take off.

There’s a brief spray of bullets from the HYDRA agents that finally managed to catch up to them, and then they’re free. 

Steve begins to turn to Bucky when suddenly there are hands on him, one flesh and one metal. They are tenderly checking for pulse, breath, and blood. “You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” Bucky implores softly.

“Bucky?” Steve asks reaching out to still the fluttering hands trying so valiantly to save Steve from the wrong thing. Familiar hands, to go with familiar eyes that recognize him. “Bucky?”

He’s dimly aware of Clint explaining why The Winter Soldier is with them to Hill but it doesn’t matter. Not when Bucky seems to be in front of him. 

“Shhh. I’m here, Pal.” Bucky, actually Bucky in every way, reassures him. “But you gotta tell me where you’re hurt.”

“How are you…?” He doesn’t finish the question. Doesn’t really know what he’s asking. All his sleep deprived brain can do is stare in wonder. Bucky is here and himself. Steve can’t believe his ears or eyes. But the hands fluttering over him can’t lie.

From the front of the helicopter Clint clears his throat. “Barnes, I don’t think Steve is hurt.”

The hands stop moving and Steve has to glare at Clint for making Bucky stop.

“Then what’s wrong with him?” Bucky demands, his tone isn’t harsh just worried. 

Clint gives Bucky a look that is full of meaning. Steve doesn’t know what he’s telling Bucky but Bucky seems to understand. A moment later the fight has gone out of Bucky’s body and he limply throws himself next to Steve. Though he does keep a comforting hand on Steve’s knee. 

“You’re an idiot.” Bucky murmurs for only Steve’s ears. Then he’s completely silent for the rest of the ride to Avengers Tower.

When they land Stark leaves immediately, already examining the glowing solid metal ball. Steve starts to struggle to his feet. He’s bleary eyed and exhausted, the adrenaline having worn off long ago. Sam and Bucky both grab and arm and haul him to his feet.

“I’ll help you get to his floor.” Sam says over his head. 

Steve tries to protest. He doesn’t want to sleep. Doesn’t want to face dream-Bucky when the real Bucky is here. “I don’t want to yet.”

Sam and Bucky ignore him and guide him towards his floor. Clint and Natasha went somewhere. Steve suspects that he doesn’t want to disturb them anyway. Especially when Bucky mutters something about the “old married couple being oblivious to the world.” Steve guesses that’s one question answered.

Sam is telling Bucky about Steve’s floor. Apparently Bucky had decided to stay in his guest room. “I’ll help you get him to bed.” Sam offers softly.

“Let’s just get him to his floor.” Bucky says. “I think we’re gonna have to talk before he’ll let himself sleep.” Steve doesn’t protest because of course he wants to talk to Bucky.

Sam snorts, but doesn’t say what he’s thinking. Steve thinks he might be grateful. But if he’s going to talk to Bucky, Steve has to be coherent. He wants to talk to Bucky forever so he doesn’t go away. Part of him still thinks he must have fallen asleep on the car ride into Toledo and this is all some crazy dream.

So when the elevator finally makes it to his floor, Steve goes straight to the kitchen to duck his head under the faucet. The rivulets of cold wash over his skin waking him up enough to chat for a bit.

He hears Bucky apologize for nearly killing Sam before he lets the water wash over his ears.

When he gets back into the living room, drying his hair on a fresh dish towel, he finds Bucky has already made himself comfortable on the couch. Sam is gone. They look at each other for a long moment.

Finally Bucky breaks the silence. “You look like hell Steve.”

Steve can’t help smirk at Bucky’s tone. It was the same tone he used back in Brooklyn when Steve was too stubborn to listen to his mother and stay in bed. 

Steve sighs, throws the damp towel over his shoulder and sits on the worn, high armed, leather couch next to Bucky. “I know.” Steve says slowly.

“Are you going to tell me about it?” Bucky asks, “Or keep suffering in silence.”

Steve groans tiredly. He leans back and puts his feet up on his coffee table. He got it from a consignment store. Tony calls it old, but Steve likes to think it’s well loved. “There’s nothing to tell. I have nightmares.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “I do too, Pal.” He drawls. “But I can talk about why I have them.”

Steve lets his head thunk back on the couch and rolls his head to the side so he’s looking over at Bucky. Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s exhausted.

“They’re just nightmares, Bucky.” He says seriously.

“You need sleep.” Bucky argues tiredly. He seems to be doing so well, it occurs to Steve that the other shoe’s got to drop. Everything Sam and Banner have been saying points to Bucky not being fine.

Steve doesn’t want to add worrying about him to Bucky’s probably already very long list of problems. “I know.” He concedes for the first time in three years.

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve knows. Steve knows just from that one sigh that Bucky is thanking whatever few lucky stars he feels he has that Steve isn’t going to put up a fight. It solidifies Steve’s resolve to do better, to not have his issues be a burden to Bucky or anyone else.

Without really thinking about it he yawns and scoots to the edge of his seat. “Do you want me to show you your room before I go to bed?”

Bucky nods warily. “Yeah.” He agrees.

They walk down the hall together. Once Steve is convinced that Bucky is settled in, that he won’t disappear, he heads to his own bed for the first time in days. 

For the next few days Steve tries the hardest he has since he’s been pulled from the ice to have a somewhat normal sleep schedule. His success varies. He spends more time in bed, but the nightmares get worse. 

Peggy and Bucky, and sometimes The Commandos or Avengers are there. It’s a confusing mix of false past and present warring with each other. It feels like everything he once wanted and everything he’s starting to want have decided to hold a crusade in his head. It doesn’t leave much room for sleeping. 

He knows Bucky can tell he’s still not sleeping.

During the day he watches as Bucky falls into a normal routine with the rest of the Avengers. It starts to seem like the other shoe won’t actually drop.

Bucky lets Tony fool with his arm and Bruce do different tests to make sure he’s healthy. Clint spends a lot of time at the shooting range with him. Steve’s walked in on Sam insisting that he’s going to teach Bucky to eat junk food again if it’s the last thing he does. And he swears up and down that Bucky and Natasha were once sharing secrets like adolescent girls.

Steve’s happy to see Bucky joining the group so easily. There’s already talk of him joining the team in the field. Somehow, Steve suspects Natasha, the new SHIELD has already cleared Bucky for duty. Bucky actually seems excited about the prospect. 

Truly Steve is glad that the foundation for all of this was set by Clint and Natasha. He tries not to be upset that Bucky went to them because he’s really just glad that Bucky is alright. But he’s not all that happy.

Bucky is distant with him. Warm, but like he used to be with anyone on the street. He seems hesitant to interact with Steve in a way that means anything and that hurts. It also worries Steve that something is more wrong than Bucky wants him to know. Or worse that Bucky just doesn’t want him at all anymore.

Maybe that’s why the dreams get worse. One night it all comes to a head.

Bucky and Peggy are having dinner without Steve. And for some reason Tony and Howard have changed the locks to the house. Steve wouldn’t mind normally. Would happily let them have a night together and come back later. In any other situation he’d ask Dum Dum or Clint to go out for a drink.

It stings a little that they don’t want him there, but he tries to understand wanting some one on one time. Not tonight though. Tonight he knows the Winter Solider is lurking in the shadows, he has to save them. He has to make sure they don’t hurt the Winter Soldier.

Steve wakes up to the sound of the elevator opening and closing with a shout caught in his throat. He can’t hear anyone walking through the apartment, which means Bucky has wandered off somewhere.

He takes a few steadying breaths and gets out of bed. “JARVIS? He asks, “Where is Bucky headed?”

“I believe he is going to the roof with Mr. Barton, sir.” The AI system informs him blandly. “Shall I let him know you are looking for him?”

“No. No Thank you.” Steve says hastily. Glad that Bucky didn’t hear him. He hates when Bucky hears Steve’s nightmares and wakes him with that deeply concerned look. “I’ll just go back to bed.”

This sort of thing happens fairly regularly. It’s clear that Bucky relies on Clint and Steve is glad that he has that friendship. He’s also intensely jealous of it. It used to be Steve that Bucky relied on. He didn’t know what he’d done to lose that privilege.

Why hadn’t Bucky come to him when he’d started to get himself back? Why hadn’t Clint and Nat told him they had Bucky? Did Bucky no longer consider him a friend? Was that why he was so distant these days?

It became apparent rather quickly that he wasn’t going to get back to sleep. Not with questions and bits of non-reality swirling through his head. So he goes to the top floor of Avengers Tower with a sketch pad to draw.

He does this every night he doesn’t sleep. Sits cross-legged on the common area balcony and sketches some part of the city at night. It helps chase away lingering remnants of a world that never existed in the first place.

The outline of the city has just started to take shape on his paper when the wind steadily slows and the night becomes still, relaxing. That’s when he hears them. Clint and Bucky speaking from the floor above. Any other Avenger wouldn’t have been able to hear them, but improved hearing comes with the serum.

“So, no one knows what it’s about?” Bucky is asking, his tone disbelieving and slightly angry.

“He won’t talk about it.” Clint says, “And I’m sure you know how he gets.” 

Bucky laughs weakly. It’s affectionate and tired. “I might have some experience with the matter.”

“I’m hoping it will get better, now that you’re back.” Clint voices carefully.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Steve knows he’s frowning at Clint, his brow wrinkled like he’s trying to work out a particularly difficult puzzle. And it breaks Steve’s heart that Bucky doesn’t know that that’s true. Doesn’t know that Steve will do anything for Bucky because he never found out how much he means to Steve.

“I think he’ll try to sleep more at least.” Bucky eventually offers. “But it’s a toss_up if the stubborn punk will actually sleep. Or stay in bed when he decides he really can’t sleep.”

Clint hums at that. “I sure hope he does. Going into the field like that is going to get him killed” They’re quiet for a while longer. Too quiet. Steve starts to worry that Bucky isn’t talking because he’s leaving. He’d never been one to sit in silence. 

Apparently that’s still true because Clint finally says, “You’re being awful quiet Barnes.”

Bucky doesn’t answer at all. Worried, Steve finds himself standing. Ready to go to Bucky and help however he can. He doesn’t need to though, Clint has whatever this is under control.

He hears Clint swear softly and then gravel crunches under the archer’s boots, possibly kneeling in front of Bucky if the last heavy crunch of gravel is a sign. Clint swears again and then starts coaxing Bucky to breathe with him.

Steve’s rooted on the spot. He needs to go to Bucky but he’s so afraid that something awful is happening that he can’t move. 

“That’s it. Inhale, exhale, just like me.” Clint continues to coax. And finally, finally Bucky sighs gustily letting go of a lungful of air. It sounds like Bucky starts breathing with Clint and Steve knows that whatever the danger was, it has passed. 

“Sorry.” Bucky says roughly once he’s got his breath back. Or something, Steve really isn’t sure what just happened. “I fuckin’ hate panic attacks.”

Oh. Is all Steve can think. Battle fatigue or, Sam calls it PTSD now. But of course, of course Bucky would suffer from panic attacks. And Steve left him to deal with it all on his own. 

Clint laughs humorlessly. “I think everyone who has them does, Buddy.” Then after a moment. “Do you want to talk about what caused that?”

“Worrying about Steve.” Bucky says. “It-, they-, that’s how they broke me. Was by taking from me in a million different ways, making it clear I couldn’t protect him.”

“Aw, shit. I’m sorry man. Do you feel like that now? Like you can’t save him.” Clint asks sympathetically.

“Yeah.” Bucky says. “And I know it’s stupid. In the end it’s just nightmares. Not to mention I have so many memories of saving Steve’s ass, and I’m so much stronger now. I know there’s no way anything is happening to him on my watch. But I’m still afraid to lose him again. I missed him.”

Clint laughs for real at that. “Yeah, I think he’s missed you too.”

There’s another silence and Steve realizes he really shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Not that he’d meant too, but it still wasn’t right. He can’t undo listening in but he can leave now.

Steve quietly gathers his art supplies and takes the elevator down to his own floor. By the time Bucky makes it back down Steve is halfway through drawing the view outside the living room window for the thousandth time.

“You’re awake?” Bucky asks disbelieving when he sees him.

“I, uh, woke up.” Steve offers weakly. He knows it’s a lame explanation. Isn’t surprised when the lines of Bucky’s mouth turn down in a frown. Knowing that Bucky does care, missed him, only makes him feel more guilty

“Thought you said you were going to try and get some shut-eye.” Bucky says sitting next to him on the couch. He stretches out his long legs and rests the back of his hands on his knees. Opening and closing his hands. The metal fingers of his left hand glint dimly in the soft light.

“I did for a little bit.” Steve reassures him. “I’m feeling a lot better.”

Bucky, so much like his old self still, raises an eyebrow at Steve. If he hadn’t heard his panic attack only moments before Steve would believe that Bucky was back at one hundred percent.

He turns to a fresh page and starts drawing Bucky. Bucky just rolls his eyes and stills his hands. “You still need more sleep Steve. Regular sleep.”

“I know.” Steve concedes stubbornly, not providing Bucky with any more information. Bucky can never discover his role in the dream reality Steve had created. Bucky might have missed him, but not nearly as much as Steve missed Bucky.

They’re quiet, but it’s the already dead silence that occurs just before an explosion. “Dammit Steve!” Bucky booms. “Stop pretending you’re fine and talk to me. Please don’t shut me out.” 

Steve glares at Bucky, a hundred sharp retorts jump to mind. All tinged with the word hypocrite, but Steve doesn’t want to fight. Steve isn’t the one suffering from panic attacks in silence. But yelling will only make things worse.

“I’m not the only one not talking, Bucky.” Steve says softly. “I mean I don’t expect you to spill everything in one night, or ever really, but last time I saw you, you didn’t know your own name. You were gone for months. And now you’re back to running around fighting and saving me from myself like nothing ever happened? I’m worried about you and I don’t want to make anything worse over a few nightmares.”

Bucky turned and moved the sketchpad Steve had placed between them. He’s smiling tiredly, the glint of what would have once been an ironic laugh shining in his eyes. It’s a familiar smile, one from the war. Steve wants to kiss him, even though they’re fighting. But he can’t. That was never real.

Ever occur to you that I’m doing all this cause I’m worried about you?” Bucky asks. And Steve sees some of the shadows take over his eyes. He wants to help his old friend but he doesn’t know how.

“Maybe we can help each other?” Steve offers weakly.

“You mean I tell you about the fact that that fight a few days ago terrified me and you tell me about why you aren’t sleeping.” Notes of sarcasm slip through the statement. Every familiar thing Bucky did was like a balm on Steve’s soul.

“Well, yeah.” Steve agrees.

Bucky actually laughs this time. It’s just a huff of breath but it instantly becomes Steve’s favorite sound. “Okay.” Bucky says, “I’ll go first. I have panic attacks, and sometimes I think this is all some HYDRA set up but Nat and Clint taught me how to deal with it.”

“Why’d you go to them Bucky?” Steve hears himself ask before he can stop himself. He wishes he hadn’t, has no idea how Bucky will respond.

Bucky just tilts his head thoughtfully. “Lots of reasons I guess.” He says after quite a bit of thought. “I was afraid you’d think me your enemy after the Helicarrier. I felt like I needed to put some of the pieces together before I got back to being by your side. HYDRA really messed with my head and I wasn’t sure how I’d respond to seeing you. I needed time to heal on my own. I was afraid you wouldn’t want me back. Nat’s the only person who’s come back from this. Take your pick.”

That broke Steve’s heart. That things could get so messed up that Bucky would doubt Steve wanting Bucky by his side. He couldn’t stop his hand when it reached out to squeeze Bucky’s. But he didn’t hold it like he would dream Bucky’s, he just drew back after the comforting gesture was given. 

“You’re my best friend, Bucky.” Steve says gently. “I just want to be there for you. Whatever you need, till the end of the line.”

Bucky smiles and almost to himself says, “Til the end of the line. Yeah, I want that too Stevie. So, now it’s your turn. What goes through that dumb head of yours when you sleep?”

Bucky is deflecting the severity of what HYDRA did to him. Steve can tell. He isn’t in any place to corner him about it, because now it’s Steve’s turn to deflect. He can’t let Bucky know about the life they didn’t share together, but he won’t get away with lying. Bucky would know instantly.

Finally he settles for. “I have lots of nightmares about the war and stuff. There’s this one dream though, that I’d have even before I learned you were alive. You’d somehow survived the fall and been rescued. I didn’t crash the plane. Peggy and I got married. Everyone was happy. When I’d wake up and realize that’s not how my life went, it just, it was so hard to deal with.”

At first all Bucky does is breathe deeply. Then he stretches out, puts a hand on the back of Steve’s neck and squeezes affectionately. Like he did every time he pulled a much smaller Steve out of an alley. “Well, I can’t make everyone young again, but you’ve got me now, right?” He finally offers. “We’ll do everything we can to find our place in this world. Alright, Stevie?”

It sounds like a promise to the both of them. A promise that had a whole new world of meaning that Bucky didn’t intend.

Steve nods. “Okay, Bucky.”

The dreams lessen again. Though they don’t go away entirely. He and Bucky become inseparable again. Brothers by all but blood. A tiny part of Steve hates it. But having Bucky back for real is worth a million dreams where Bucky loves him back. So Steve tries to just enjoy what he does have.

Bucky struggles some too. He has panic attacks, bad days where he can barely get out of bed from guilt, and days where Steve can practically feel rage radiating off of him. Slowly Steve becomes another source of comfort on these bad days.

The first time Steve sees Natasha walk Bucky through a panic attack nearly breaks Steve. Not because Bucky is hurting, though that is a hard thing to witness, but because she’s doing what Bucky used to do when Steve had an asthma attack. The next time it happens when they’re alone on Steve’s floor, Steve knows exactly what to do.

Bucky returns the favor by sitting on the balcony with him when he wakes up from another dream. Watching as Steve sketches and talking about the latest wikipeida article he’s read. 

On the days Bucky can hardly get out of bed Steve pays extra attention to what Bucky needs. Sometimes it’s to be left alone, though Steve never lets him wallow for too long. And Steve always make sure Bucky eats and drinks on those days, tries to coax him out to watch movies with him. They fly through the catch up list on those days. Luckily the rest of the team is always there to suggest new additions.

Steve finds that his floor has become completely stocked for relaxation and sleep. With herbal teas he doesn’t remember ordering, cozy blankets everywhere, and everything from Records to MP3 players containing everything from the blues of his childhood to soothing sounds. He knows its Bucky making sure that if he wants to try to sleep he will at least fall asleep. Steve is touched by the gesture.

There are days when Bucky is filled with rage. Ready to go out and tear HYDRA apart, even though they don’t have any intel on where to start yet. Tony is still researching the strange orb and Thor hasn’t come back yet to examine it. On the days Bucky is in that vengeful state they spar. They also spar when Steve is jittery from a bad sleep, filled with too much negative energy and nowhere to put it.

It makes the rest of the team nervous because they fight as seriously as they did on the Hellicarrier. Like they truly want to rip each other to shreds. 

It’s not like that though. They just know each other’s limits. Know they aren’t doing anyone any favors when they go easy on each other. So when one or both of them needs it they fight until they can barely move. Then they go back to one of the common floors and work further on the list.

Right now, after a brutal sparring match, they’re playing Angry Birds on one of Tony’s holographic screens. As Clint promised it was surprisingly addictive. Destroying the pig’s fortresses is relaxing. Bucky seems to get a kick out of it too.

“Shush, I’m looking for weak points.” Bucky says when Steve tries to suggest they have lunch. 

“What about in the middle of the second tier?” Steve suggests, hoping they can get this level over with soon. He’s hungry and since he’s still not getting quite enough sleep he has to get his energy from somewhere.

Bucky just grunts in response and throws a bird. Part of the fortress falls, but he’s out of shots.

They get so involved in the game that don’t hear Thor come in. “Captain!” The prince of Asgard booms magnanimously. “I am here to examine The Man of Iron’s discovery of alien technology.”

Steve and Bucky turn on their heels at the sudden noise. There’s a crash over the speakers as Bucky knocks down the tower they’d spent so much time on by accidentally firing.

The look on Bucky’s face when he finally registers the sound amuses Steve. 

“What? No!” Bucky exclaims with disbelief. “I don’t know what I did!”

Steve can’t help but snicker before pulling himself together and shaking Thor’s hand. He very quickly finds himself pulled into a bone crushing hug. The god may be a lot smaller, but Steve thinks it’s equivalent to a hug from the Hulk.

He gets free to find Bucky raising an eyebrow at him. Steve can’t help but grin back at Bucky’s confusion. It’s hard to know how to react the first time you meet Thor. If he wasn’t so amused he’d feel for Bucky.

“Bucky, this is Thor.” Steve explains. “He’s the alien prince from Asgard. We’ve told you about Asgard right?”

Bucky rolls his eyes but nods. “Yeah.” He says cryptically. Then he puts a smile on his face and holds his metal hand out to Thor. “It’s good to finally put a face to the name.”

Thor shakes Bucky’s hand vigorously. Bucky returns his vigor in spades, and Steve internally groans at Bucky’s competitive nature. 

Thor doesn’t seem to mind. He grins widely and says. “I beg your pardon if I’m being presumptuous. But you wouldn’t happen to be Sergeant Barnes, the good Captain’s lost friend, would you? Only I read about you in one of the Lady Darcy’s history books.” 

Bucky spreads his hand. Steve thought he looks a little self-conscious. “Yeah that’d be me.”

They’re saved from explaining the details by JARVIS. “I apologize for the interruption, but Mr. Stark asked me to guide Mr. Odinson to the labs when he got here. He thinks he may know how to make the orb work and wants to begin testing immediately. Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are welcome to come as well.”

“Yeah. Tell Stark we’ll be down shortly.” Steve answers, knowing that he needs to be there and Bucky will want to go. He likes having all intel pertaining to possible missions.

When they get to the labs Tony is hovering over the orb excitedly. “It’s alright baby.” Stark is saying to the orb. “In a moment I’ll boot you up and you can show us what you can do.” 

“Do you know what it does?” Steve asks cautiously while Bucky approaches the table. 

“Last I checked no one knows what it does.” Bucky says calmly. He was watching the orb cautiously. 

Tony scoffs. “Well from what I can tell this little groove here is set by adding the slightest bit of pressure, and it is for intensity. JARVIS thinks that tapping it three times on these little swirls will turn it on. So we just need to twist here.” Tony moves to pick up the orb to set it.

Steve looks to see over to see what Thor thinks about all of this. Only to find that the fearless prince of Asgard is staring at the orb with wide eyes. Steve could swear he’d gone slightly pale.

“Man of Iron,” Thor says in the calm way of a commanding officer that is ready to run for cover. “I would like to suggest that you put the orb down.”

Tony pauses to shoot Thor a confused look. “What don’t you want to see this bad puppy in action, Bob the Builder?”

Realizing that the person in the room most likely to know what the orb did thought that the orb should not be activated under any circumstances, Steve and Bucky move to get between Tony and the Orb.

“No, I do not desire to see the room and all that is in it consumed by pure gravitational force, friend.” Thor says calmly. 

Steve expects Tony to argue back, or at least call Thor a girl. But as always, Tony takes him by surprise.

“Are you saying this thing can make black holes, like a super intense mini hadron collider or something?” He asks with disbelief. “Christ, and you guys were going to let me set it off in my lab? This lab is not equipped with collider safety measures! What were you guys thinking?”

“It is why I advised against it.” Thor says seriously.

Tony doesn’t hear him because he has already moved on to the next thing. Which was actually a whole hell of a lot more productive anyways. 

He mutters to himself about what HYDRA could want with a small black hole while walking toward the work bench that can turn into a 3D topographical map. Already requesting that JARVIS pull up several maps of the HYDRA base and the city surrounding it as he goes. 

Then he looks up at Bucky, “Hey, Buckaroo how can we tell if HYDRA knows what baby can do?” 

Steve frowns concernedly at Tony calling the item baby.

“It would have been in the planning office on the third floor.” Bucky says thoughtfully.

“Shit.” Steve breaths under his breath. “The same one that had the maps?”

Bucky just stares at him for a disbelieving moment. “Steve I need you to think, were there any schematics on it?”

“Yeah, we didn’t have time to grab them.” Steve says honestly. 

“Then they’re prepared for reproduction.” That gets Tony moving hurriedly again. 

“JARVIS! I need that information immediately. And call in the rest of the team. Everyone’s in New York today, right?” The billionaire starts shouting.

Before Steve knows it the whole team is on a plane flying to the Toledo HYDRA base. The plane ride is spent preparing. They decided to stop HYDRA now before they could actually use the technology they had. Because HYDRA being able to create black holes on demand just seems like a bad idea.

Luckily, they don’t think the Nazi organization was going for large scale reproduction. Just a few replicas to use in certain situations. Steve doesn’t really want to know what those situations might be. All he needs to know is that it could make a lot of people dead.

“Well, as good as dead. Spagettification is only theoretical, we don’t know much.” When he realizes no one is listening to him Tony finishes with a mumbled. “It’s complicated.” 

Steve is hardly listening to him. Looking over the maps of the HYDRA base for the thousandth time takes precedence. Making sure that their plans have plans, that’s Steve’s job.

The plan is simple. They send the Hulk in to draw HYDRA out. Steve and Thor will help set the explosives while Natasha and Bucky retrieve the replicated alien technology. Meanwhile Clint, Sam and Tony will provide the Hulk with aerial cover. 

“It’ll work.” Bucky says from Steve’s right. It’s a dark night and once they get out of the helicopter Steve will only be able to see his best friend by grace of the serum. “We’ll be walking away from the explosion like happens in the movies in no time, Stevie.”

Steve has to snort at that. A few nights ago Bucky had demanded to know why people in movies always turned their backs on large explosions and walked away. It was just asking to get killed by a fire ball or piece of shrapnel. Steve agreed but apparently it’d gotten under Bucky’s skin.

“I thought you thought that was a bad idea.” Steve intones dryly.

“Yeah, but I think I have to try it.” Bucky says. “Maybe I’ll understand what everyone thinks is so cool if I do it myself.”

Steve just shakes all his head. “Well I guess you always do take all the stupid with you.” He says affectionately. They knock shoulders and then turn to listen to Natasha talk about the lay out of the base.

At first the raid on the base goes fantastically well. It’s almost like it’s scripted. Like HYDRA knows they’re supposed to go to the Hulk. Steve meets very few people as he sets up charges. And over the comms he hears that Bucky and Natasha have downloaded the base’s information from its servers and are headed to the rendezvous point. Steve sets his last charge and goes to meet them.

It’s going so well that Steve really should have been looking over his shoulder instead of accepting his easy win before it was over. He hears the one minute warning beep of the first bomb right as he’s meeting with the rest of his team that is in the base. 

“Run!” He exclaims to the other three who are in the main room a little ahead of them. Luck is still somewhat on their side because most of HYDRA is out dealing with the Hulk. Giving the four heroes time to concentrate on running. They make it all the way to the loading bay before the bomb goes off. Natasha, Steve and Bucky all move to take cover.

But Thor stops and Steve will never understand the god’s fascination with loud noises because he turns toward the sound of the explosion. The building above them creaks. The others duck low behind a shelving unit that is bolted to the ceiling and floor. But Thor isn’t moving.

A beam overhead groans and Steve knows he only has time to get down behind the shield or move Thor from harm’s way. Putting the shield on his back for maximum protection Steve shoves his teammate out of the way. Rubble uselessly falling on his armor right before the beam falls to the ground taking Steve with it. His head explodes with pain and then everything goes black. 

A few moments later Bucky is pulling him from the rubble. It wasn’t the full weight of the beam that hit him. Which is lucky because it means he isn’t hurt.

“Oh, thank god. You scared the heck out of me, Punk.” Bucky complains as Steve gets to his feet. 

“Gonna take more than a building to bring me down, Jerk.” Steve says cheerfully. Still riding his battle high and ecstatic that he’s alive. 

Bucky gives Steve a long hard stare. Steve is starting to think he’s going to get chewed out in a way that will rival Colonel Philipps when Bucky’s lips are suddenly pressed against his. The kiss is heated but far too short for Steve’s liking. Then Bucky is pulling away and the rest of the team is with them. It’s all Steve can do to smile dopily at Bucky.

As usual Tony has to get the first word in. “Have we missed something? I feel like we’ve missed something. Guys! Jarvis! What have we missed?” The inventor rambles looking mildly horrified until Natasha slaps him on the back of the head.

“Stop that.” The spy says. “They’re cute and you’re going to make them feel bad.”

Suddenly everything catches up with Steve and he finds himself blushing. But he doesn’t get to feel embarrassed for long. Bucky slings his arm over his shoulder talking about getting back to the transport.

It doesn’t take long for the team to be flying back to New York. Steve falls asleep on Bucky’s shoulder shortly after takeoff. Bucky’s metal fingers running soothingly through Steve’s hair. None of their team mates say anything. Steve is grateful that they’re so accepting.

When they land back at the Tower Bucky gently gets Steve to sit up from where he had fallen asleep in Bucky’s lap. Only Bruce separates from the group to catch some sleep. Hulking out tends to exhaust him. At least they didn’t lose him two states over this time.

There’s a moment where everyone just stands around. Too tired to sleep.

“So who wants Thai?” Tony asks when it becomes apparent that no one is ready to do much more than stand around the kitchen staring at each other. “Okay good, JARVIS order one of everything from that place I like.”

“Of course, Sir.” The AI intones. “Shall I get something for Dr. Banner as well?”

“Sure, make sure it’s taken directly to a fridge.” Tony agrees.

Throughout the exchange Steve leans against the breakfast bar. Bucky is leaning against him and he’s content. Could stay just like that for the rest of the night. 

Stark turns to them. “Is Shrek still on your list?”

The team ends up in one of the common floor living rooms. Bucky curled around Steve on the couch. They eat the pizza Tony had JARVIS order and watch some movie about an Ogre trying to save a princess. Clint cracks jokes about the jokes while Thor laughs far too hard and Sam drinks an entire liter of soda on his own. 

Somewhere between the second and third movie Steve falls asleep. He wakes up to fingers carding gently through his hair. Warm breath moves against his jaw. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Bucky says softly. “Everyone else has gone to bed.”

Steve rolls over on the couch to wrap his arms around Bucky. “I guess we should too. Get some real shut-eye before morning comes.”

Bucky laughs softly and pulls Steve closer. “Nah, let’s stay here a little longer. It’s not like we have anywhere to be in the morning.”

Steve breathes deep and buries his face in Bucky’s shoulder. “Yeah okay.”

They wake up the next morning to the sound of Sam making eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Clint is perched on the T.V. stand. The first thing he says is “I swear it wasn’t me.” Steve can’t help but laugh when he realizes someone drew little hearts all over him and Bucky while they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter y'all. We'll be back to Bucky's POV. ;) See you next week!


	4. My Love Is Still Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is a reason I tagged this with serious injury. This is that reason.

“Steve!” Bucky screams as he watches the beam fall on the only person who really matters. Natasha and Clint’s hands encircling his wrists is the only thing that keeps him down as fire rushes overhead. When it’s over there’s silence and then the sound of someone standing and metal shifting.

Bucky breaks free from Natasha and Clint to find Thor lifting the beam off Steve. Bucky feels like he’s going to be sick when Thor tosses the beam aside. The god is fine and Bucky unfairly hates him for a moment. Steve isn’t moving and there’s a lot of blood.

Ignoring Thor, Bucky skids to a stop next to Steve. Gingerly kneels down and feels for pulse and breath. A litany of “Come on Steve” rushing across his trembling lips. He nearly cries when he finds Steve’s pulse, faint but there just like the faint rise and fall of Steve’s chest when Bucky gently rolls him over.

It’s obvious that Steve isn’t okay though. His arm is at an unnatural angle and the back of his head is a bloody mess. Bucky reaches out to touch the back Steve’s head. He knows he has to feel carefully for signs of a fractured skull. But he can’t get his hand to move all the way. Can’t make himself possibly hurt Steve more.

The world narrows to his hand not touching Steve. Bucky isn’t breathing, but he doesn’t know he isn’t breathing. Cause the only thing that matters is that Steve is hurt and Bucky’s body won’t help the only person that matters most. 

A warm hand wraps around his uselessly outstretched one snapping Bucky out of it. He’s suddenly frighteningly aware that he isn’t breathing. He concentrates on the feel of Natasha’s hand against his own skin, soft, warm and familiar.

Then he gets where he can hear her voice. “It’s okay, Sam’s looking Steve over now and we’ll evacuate him. The base is gone, there’s no more threat. Steve’s going to be fine, but we’ve all got to get out of here.”

Finally he can look over at Steve without panicking and sees Sam carefully bracing Steve’s neck and checking for broken ribs. He looks concerned.

“Tony!” the team’s paramedic says into his comms unit. “How quickly can we get to a hospital?”

“Steve will be fine.” Natasha says beside him. Sam has started pulling things from his medical bag to stop the bleeding and set Steve’s arm. It’s all Bucky can do to watch in horror.

Tony lands next to him. He blanches for all of three seconds before he’s talking a million miles a minute. “Oh shit. This is not good.” The genius states obviously. Bucky only wants to murder him a little for wasting time. At least he’s in a position where he can help. 

“It will be safe to fly him out of here as soon as I get his neck stabilized.” Sam says. “Thank god his spine isn’t broken. Tony I’m going to need you to carry him. I’ll escort and keep an eye on him.”

“Can do.” Tony says before speaking into his comms unit. “JARVIS tell the nearest hospital we’re coming. I want the best doctors on the roof by the time we get there. I don’t care how much money you have to offer them.”

When Sam gives the nod for Tony to move forward and collect Steve, Clint and Natasha both have to put grounding hands on him. “Hey, we got to get to the rendezvous site.” Clint says evenly. “We’ll be there right after they get there. It will be fine.”

As Tony takes off with Steve and the rest of the fliers on the team, Clint, Natasha, and Bucky run towards the rendezvous point. Bucky takes point because he can’t hold himself back. If he felt like it’d be okay he’d run all the way to the hospital. But honestly taking the car from Hill would be faster, and it’d be wrong to leave Natasha and Clint behind.

So once he makes it to the armored car he gets in and waits. They probably only lose 120 seconds because both Natasha and Clint managed to stay hot on his heels. As they buckle up Clint lets Hill know that someone is going to have to search for Dr. Banner because the Hulk ran away when the building started exploding early.

Bucky could kiss Maria Hill. She gets them to the hospital in less than half the time it should take, legally speaking. When they find the rest of team they’re in a waiting room. Steve is in surgery. 

Sam comes over and silently leads Bucky over to a chair. Clint and Natasha don’t leave his side. Eventually the team starts talking to each other in hushed voices. No one mentions Steve, but the furtive glances directed towards the OR doors might as well be words for Bucky.

They sit for hours. The rest of the team moves about, goes to get food and drink. Have their thankfully much more minor injuries seen to. Take impromptu naps on one of the three comfy couches. Bucky waits. 

At some point Bruce comes in. He’s wearing SHIELD issued workout clothes, like it’s what the agents who found him had at the time. He immediately sits down next to Sam trying to find out what the pararescuman knows. 

Hearing what they already know repeated grates on Bucky’s nerves. For the first time in about six hours Bucky leaves the room. He goes to the bathroom and realizes that he hasn’t cleaned up. There’s still a streak of blood running down his neck and he doesn’t think it’s his.

Sighing, Bucky bends over the sink and starts the process of washing off. He’s about cleaned up when Natasha walks in.

Bucky starts when he hears her voice say “Thought you’d like a change of clothes.”

“Jesus, Natasha!” He snaps, “You do realize this is the men’s bathroom right?”

Natasha just rolls her eyes and reaches for a paper towel. “You missed a spot on the back of your neck.” She says before helping Bucky wash off.

They’re quiet for a moment before she says. “How are you holding up? You left kind of quick there.”

Bucky sighs and concentrates harder at getting flecks of dried blood out of the grooves of the metal arm. Cleaning the arm has always been a bitch. 

“I’ll be ready to go back in a moment.” Bucky answers. It’s not a direct answer but he knows that she’ll understand. “I just couldn’t handle listening to them telling Banner what they knew.”

Natasha nods and reaches out to stop his obsessive cleaning of the arm. “You know rubbing alcohol is really good for that?”

“Don’t have any.” Bucky replies.

“Yeah, but Tony does. He was just waiting for you to show that you were ready to talk to us. So get dressed and we’ll go see him.”

The clothes are simple a t-shirt and jeans. But they fit and Bucky is grateful. He is even more grateful when Tony helps him get the arm clean.

Finally, hours later, the doctor comes, “The family of Steve Rogers?” The man asks. He somehow seems genuinely surprised when he is surrounded by the Avengers.

“Are you Steve Rogers’ family?” The doctor asks, like he’s about to start ‘geeking out’ as Tony calls it.

“The closest he’s got.” Bucky growls. He doesn’t mean to be threatening but he has to know about Steve. Has to see him.

The doctor swallows and seems to rethink his moment of being star-struck. “Mr. Rogers is finally out of surgery and in the ICU. His injuries are severe. He has three broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung. A shattered arm and fractured leg. And a fractured skull. 

“We have surgically repaired the puncture and put him on a ventilator. The shattered arm we have gone in and set with screws. We will see how much functionality he regains. The broken ribs will hopefully heal on their own.”

“We’ve done what we can to relieve the pressure on his brain, and put him in a coma. As long as the swelling responds to the drugs we won’t have to do more surgery, but it’s hard to tell at this point.” 

All of this is said while the doctor watches the Avengers curiously. Finally he says. “I’m sorry but is my patient Captain America? If he is I need to go recalculate the dose of propofol.”

At that point Bruce steps forward hesitantly. “I believe I will be able to help with that. I have some experience with the serum and taking care of Captain Rogers medically.” Bucky watches as he holds out a hand. “Dr. Bruce Banner. I’m not a medical doctor but I have some expertise in the area.”

Dr. Wilshuven nods at that. “I’d be glad for the help.”

“Can we see Steve?” Bucky interrupts. 

“Of course.” Dr. Wilshuven says and gestures for him and Bruce to follow him to Steve’s room.

It’s scary. Steve’s hooked up to what seems to be a thousand machines. He can barely see Steve through all the tubes, wires, and bandages. While Bruce talks to the doctor about dosage Bucky pulls a chair over to Steve’s bedside. 

He dimly remembers sitting like this before. Waiting impatiently for each of Steve’s labored breaths. The familiarity washes over him and Bucky somehow relaxes. Steve has made it through this kind of thing before, and he will again. There isn’t another option with Bucky watching over him.

Bucky doesn’t interact with the others much during his silent vigil. He thanks Sam for the coffee when it’s brought. Eats the shitty protein bar Natasha shoves into his hands. He doesn’t even glower at her when she orders him to eat all of it. 

Eventually he just sort of sinks into Steve’s silence, becomes a part of each mechanically even, slightly labored breath. The things going on around him wash over him like the water of Clint’s little river.

Steve doesn’t move and neither does Bucky. He pulls himself out of his near trance every few hours to eat and drink and make a hurried run to the bathroom. Each time one of the team also makes him take a moment to stretch, wastes his time with interpersonal interaction. He tolerates it because he knows it’s their way of showing they care.

Who is in the waiting room changes, as if the team has set up a watch schedule. This time it’s Tony and Thor. The prince of Asgard and billionaire could be holding court even in the plain waiting room. Both men have such a natural air of power about them.

As Bucky approaches he hears Tony trying to comfort Thor. Apparently the guy was pretty shaken up about the accident. Bucky can objectively understand that. If he wasn’t worried sick he’d feel sorry for the guy. The first time you realize Steve will literally die to defend his friends is hard one. The fact that Steve nearly died to save Thor from something the Asgardian would easily survive only makes matters worse.

Bucky goes over to them while he guzzles down a Gatorade. Hoping the sound of him crushing the plastic bottle will alert them to his presence. He doesn’t want to have to put up with awkward apologies from Thor. It isn’t his fault Steve is a protective idiot. 

“How’s it going there Iron Maiden?” Tony asks as Bucky approaches. “I’d have thought you’d concentrated your way into Steve’s coma by now. Or was that not the point of you sitting silently by his bed for the past,” Tony checks his watch condescendingly. “Three and a half days.”

“I moved four hours ago.” Bucky retorts blandly. He doesn’t want to take shit from the genius billionaire with the face of an old friend and target. Especially since he is right. 

“I’m just saying you need a shower, maybe some real food and a nap. Luckily for you we’ve got all that over at the hotel, bonus points for it being only a couple of blocks away. With the serum you can be here in five minutes easily. And I have JARVIS watching Steve’s room so you’ll know if he needs you. Not that he will because that’s the point of him being in a coma.”

“It won’t even take me four minutes.” Bucky replies, unable to keep some of the exhaustion out of his voice. “I’m not leaving his side till I know Steve is okay.”

Bucky is sure Tony has some sarcastic comment, most likely having to do with Paleolithic boyfriends for that. All he hears is the snick of the waiting room door as it closes behind him.

The next time he pops out of his silent vigil it seems Clint has decided to join him in Steve’s room. He’s perched on the window sill but instead of watching the street below or Steve, his eyes are trained on Bucky. It’s with the same intensity that Bucky was watching Steve. “Bruce says they’re talking about waking him up in the next couple of days.” Clint says when Bucky looks at him questioningly. “He thinks they could really bring him out now but the doctors are being cautious. They are completely amazed but they think he’s going to be fine. His lung is already healed. If it weren’t for the coma he could breathe on his own. They say all of his bones have already done a couple weeks’ worth of healing.”

“Yeah, but we know that’s the serum.” Bucky replies tiredly. Bucky’s glad Clint is telling him this but he doesn’t know why.

“Yeah, but I’m saying he’s not like in really high danger anymore.” Clint says pointedly. “But he’s also not awake.”

Bucky scowls at Clint. Hoping he’ll get the message that he needs to stop talking. Clint just waves him off breezily. “So, I’m thinking maybe I could take you back to the hotel and you could catch some sleep, maybe take a shower, eat some food?”

“No.” Bucky, says flatly.

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t want to have to deal with Captain ‘It’s-just-a-head-wound-I’ve-had-worse’ on a three day sleep deficit when he wakes up. Especially a sleep deficit that is following a big battle, but maybe your version of the serum gives you the ability to not sleep at all. Steve seems to think that’s what his does. But I’ll tell you now buddy, he’s wrong.”

He returns Clint’s unnerving stare for a moment. A slight shift in Steve’s breathing draws Bucky’s attention. Steve’s eyelids twitch minutely. It’s so short that Bucky thinks he must have imagined it. He knows it probably doesn’t mean anything. But now he can’t take his eyes off Steve’s unconscious form. Can’t unhear Steve’s voice reminding him to take care of himself as he has so many times over the years.

Bucky sighs. “Yeah, alright. I’ve had two people tell me I need a shower. I know when to take a hint.”

“That’s not a hint, man.” Clint says with a triumphant grin. He hops off the window sill and walks over to give Bucky a hand up. 

Bucky just shakes his head and moves over to take Steve’s hand. He thinks it’s really sad that it isn’t weird for him to talk to Steve when he can’t hear him. But it’s true, he’s used to this kind of scenario from years of pneumonia and Steve being reckless.

“Hey, Stevie.” Bucky says, gently ignoring Clint’s presence entirely. It’s not like he can give himself away to the archer any more. “Your team is probably going to douse me in ice water soon if I don’t go take a shower and a nap. So, I’m going to go do that. But JARVIS is going to watch while I’m gone. I’ll be right back if you need me okay?”

Bucky pats Steve’s hand awkwardly, it doesn’t seem right to kiss his forehead or something. Not if Steve doesn’t know he might do it. So he pats his hand and then straightens and turns to Clint.

Who is smart enough to refrain from commenting past raising an eyebrow at him and opening the door.

When they make it back out into the waiting room Natasha is curled up in one of the hard plastic chairs. Bucky isn’t sure how she manages to stomach it but she is expectantly reading a copy of Cosmo. He certainly isn’t going to mention it to her.

Natasha looks up and smiles crookedly. “Are we going then?”

“Yup.” Clint says easily. Bucky’s sure there was some coded message in the simple word but he knows better than to try and suss it out of them. Not when they’ve been partners for so long. It would be futile.

“Good.” Nat says standing. “I’m sure a shower will help you feel a bit more human Bucky.”

She’s the only person who can say something like that and it come off as an insult. And he’s grateful for the easy way that she shows she cares.

“I was promised food too.” is all he says in response.

“I’m sure we can pick up something on the way.” She agrees.

He eats his foot long sub way too quickly and can’t even bring himself to regret it. Apparently four days of protein bars and vending machine food will do that to a man. The hotel room is very elegant. He’s sharing it with Bruce apparently but he’s at the hospital working with the doctors and keeping an eye on Steve. 

At first Bucky thinks the shower is his favorite feature. Steamy hot water with water pressure he’d normally only find in Tony’s tower. After a fight and four days of sitting still it’s a godsend. So, yeah he’s pretty sure that the shower is his favorite part of the hotel. Until he falls into the bed.

It’s the perfect mix of soft but firm and cool but cozy. If he weren’t worried sick about Steve he’s fairly certain he’d never leave. He definitely started to nod off the second his head touched the pillow. 

But he makes sure to set his phone on the side table and turn on the JARVIS feature so that the AI can wake him the second Steve needs him. Knowing that JARVIS has Steve under his watchful eye, Bucky gets some much deserved sleep. He has no idea how Steve functions without it.

He sleeps for about five hours before JARVIS wakes him with “-rry, Sargent Barnes. But you need to get to the hospital right away. It appears Captain Rogers is waking up earlier than expected. I am afraid that he has become quite agitated.” 

Buck is out of bed and bolting out the door in thirty seconds. It’s a good thing he chose to sleep in his sweats and a t-shirt. Not the type of thing he’d normally wear in public, but if Steve needs him he absolutely does not care.

All he has is his phone but he doesn’t really plan on stopping to chat with the nurse. He trusts JARVIS to warn the desk that he’s coming. And if not well no one’s gotten in the Winter Soldier’s way before.

It takes him four minutes to get to the hospital. The only person who even speaks to him on the way in is Bruce who runs alongside him to explain the situation. “I have no idea how, but Steve’s body has basically built a tolerance to the propofol. He’s waking up, violently. Something’s really upset him. I need you to calm him down while I work on an alternative drug.”

Bucky grunts in acknowledgement to Banners instructions and runs faster. 

When he gets to Steve’s ICU room his best friend is struggling with a bulky male nurse. “No, no, he’s dead! It never happened! I can’t. You have to let me go!” Steve cries deliriously. After 70 years of torture Bucky is fairly certain that that is the sound that could break him forever.

But his need to help Steve is more important that his feelings. So he gets between Steve and the nurse. Sending the man a glare that the man seems to understand to mean ‘get out’ if the way he high tails it out of the room is any indication. 

Bucky doesn’t really notice him past his letting go of Steve. Steve who has tears streaming down his face and looks both drugged out of his mind and heart broken. 

“You’re gone.” He says when he sees that Bucky’s there. “You’re gone and you never happened. Then you never happened again, and I can’t take this anymore Buck. I can’t.”

Bucky has no idea what Steve is on about but he knows how to deal with a delirious Steve. While the blonde rambles on about Bucky and Peggy being gone Bucky carefully sits on the side of the bed and tries to get Steve to lay down. Sitting can’t be good for his broken ribs or his leg and arm, or his still healing lung. But Steve isn’t having any of it. 

He clings to Bucky mumbling, “I don’t want to wake up, please don’t make me wake up Buck. I can’t lose you again, we were so happy, just like we were with Peggy.” Over and over again. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie.” He finds himself saying. Trying to calm Steve down somehow. “Shh. It’s okay. I’m here bud. I’m here.” 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there holding Steve and whispering mindless reassurances to his best friend. Whom he happens to love a whole hell of a lot. But eventually Steve seems to calm down.

“I don’t want to wake up.” Steve complains softly into his shoulder. “Please, put me back in the ice? I want to sleep. I don’t want to wake up again. I don’t want you to be gone.” 

Bucky feels like he’s going to cry or kill something. Hearing Steve like this hurts too much, but he has to be strong for both of them. “No one’s going anywhere, Stevie.” Bucky comforts. “I’m here till the end of the line. Alright. And that line hasn’t ended yet.”

“Bucky?” Steve asks again. He sounds exhausted and hurting. Bucky just wishes he could get Steve back to sleep. Leaving his side was obviously a mistake.

“I’m here, Bud.” Bucky soothes. “I’m here. But I need you to sleep. Can you do that?”

“I don’t want you to go.” Steve says again, gripping Bucky’s hand tight. But whatever drugs remain in his system and overexertion seem to be winning because Steve slumps back down into his bed. “Don’t go?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Steve.” Bucky reassures him, running a hand along Steve’s strong jaw. “When you wake up, I’m going to be right here waiting for you.”

Steve nods and lays back down. “Promise?” He asks uncertainly.

“When have I ever broken a promise to you, Punk?” Bucky retorts. “I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right on the edge of this bed if you want me too. It’s going to make the nurse’s job hard, but they can deal with it.”

Steve doesn’t seem to understand what he’s saying beyond his promise to not leave. He nods anyway. “Okay.” He says as his eyes slide close. “Okay.” In between one breath and the next Steve falls asleep.

Bucky resumes his vigil after that. He can’t stop thinking about what Steve said while he was awake. Little broken phrases trying to fit themselves together like puzzle pieces. “No, no, he’s dead!” “Put me back in the ice? I want to sleep.” “We were so happy, just like we were with Peggy.” “I don’t want to wake up again.” “I can’t take this anymore Buck.” “You’re gone.”

The only conclusion he can reach that makes any sense is completely impossible. When Bruce comes in with the rest of the team he thinks he understands. He’s left wanting to curl up in the tiny bed with Steve and to never let go. He’s fairly certain he’s been crying, but he doesn’t care. Tony is of course the first to speak.

“JARVIS said there was trouble. Is everything good now? Cause I’m here to-” Apparently taking one look at Bucky was enough to shut Stark up.

It’s Natasha who moves towards him. She crouches down next to his chair and takes his hand. “What happened?” She asks softly in Russian, giving him the opportunity to keep the rest of the team out of it if he wants.

“I found out what Steve’s been dreaming about.” Bucky starts. He’s pretty sure he’s talking in Russian, but he can’t really tell and doesn’t really care. “He, oh, god he dreamt all those years in the ice. He had a life.” Bucky can tell he is going to start crying again. And he can’t do that again. He shakes his head as if that will somehow clear his stinging eyes and clogged throat. Steve had a life with Bucky?

Taking a deep breath he gathers himself and looks to Bruce. “When can you take him off the drugs?”

Bruce frowns at the desperation in his voice. He’s already replacing Steve’s drug cocktail with one of the many other barbiturates. “We’re going to have to keep him under long enough to run some tests at least James.” Bruce says. “I might be able to talk them into starting to take him off the drugs tomorrow morning.”

Bucky nods acceptingly, he’d suspected as much. It meant he’d have another day of watching. But that wasn’t a worry for him. He needed a way to help Steve wake up calmly more than anything. “Anybody have a copy of The Jungle?” He asks roughly. 

It’s how he used to keep Steve in bed during hospital visits when they were kids. Bucky hates the book, its themes rough and too similar to his life growing up for him to enjoy it. Steve of course loved it for those exact reasons. He hopes the familiarity will keep Steve calm as the drugs work their way through his system once they decide to let him wake up.

“The Jungle Book?” Tony asks. “Why would you need that? I’ll have JARVIS put it on a new Starkpad and have someone pick it up.”

“No. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair.” Bucky corrects. “It’s about immigrants at the turn of the century.” After thinking for a moment he adds. “The turn of last century.”

“The book about the slaughterhouses?” Clint asks. “Why would you want that?”

“I don’t.” is all Bucky replies. “But it might keep Steve calm when he wakes up.”

“Right. The Jungle by Upton Sinclair.” Tony says. “I’ll have somebody get it here within the hour, just in case we need it.”

Bucky nods his thanks and goes back to watching Steve. He knows he’s being antisocial and rude when the team is worried and trying to help. But, there’s already too much on his own mind.

Two things have become perfectly clear and Bucky doesn’t know what do with his new information. First, Steve’s nightmare is a dream of a life he lived with Peggy and Bucky. He dreamt it in the ice and for god knows how long after. Secondly, and this fact is the one that continues to blow Bucky’s mind, Steve loved Bucky. Steve was in love with Bucky. Bucky doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge. Not when Steve is unconscious.

So he goes back to the routine. Clint, Natasha, and Sam rotate sitting with Bucky while the rest of team mans the waiting room. As promised the Starkpad arrives within an hour of the teams little meeting. It has The Jungle and a whole bunch of other books, but Bucky doesn’t look through them.

Instead he hands the Starkpad off to Natasha who plays some kind of numerical puzzle for hours on end. Bucky is glad that Stark’s tendency to throw his money around is useful to someone. 

The next morning they start to wean Steve off the drugs. Bucky picks up the Starkpad and starts reading the first time Steve’s eyelids flutter. Slowly the Avengers come in to listen to him read about Jurgis working in the slaughter house.

Three hours in Steve isn’t awake, but he is breathing on his own and his rapid eye movement is up. Bruce seems hopeful. The other doctors are skeptical but Bucky stopped relying on them days ago.

Five hours in everyone is intently listening to the story when Steve’s eyes blink open.

Bucky keeps reading, giving Steve a moment to adjust.

He watches over the top of the pad as shocking blue eyes focus on him. “Why you reading that old thing, Buck?” Steve asks. His voice is gravely and wrong from the ventilation tube. It makes him cough. 

Bruce is on his feet in a second to check Steve’s vitals. Sam watches astutely from the floor next to Bucky’s chair. Trusting that Banner has this under control. 

Once Banner has finished checking Steve’s vitals he calls the other doctors in and the team is shooed from the room. Bucky spends the next thirty minutes standing forebodingly by the door. Glaring at anyone who suggests he go any further away from Steve than he has to. The only reason Bucky is willing to get this far away from Steve is because Bruce is in the room and he trusts Steve’s teammates to have Steve’s back.

Eventually, the doctors determine that Steve is doing better than they could ever hope and they let Bucky back in. They leave him with Steve and stern reminders not to over exert Steve. Banner leaves him with a friendly clap on the shoulder and an encouraging smile.

“How you feeling, Punk?” Bucky asks when they’re alone again. “I’m sure the doctors told you but you took a pretty nasty hit. They’ve been keeping you unconscious for five days. You kind of came out of it last night. It was a bit rough.”

Steve frowned at that. Bucky knew he would, but wished he’d just own up all the same. “Rough how?”

“You were begging to be put back in the ice Stevie.” Bucky says, letting Steve see how much it hurt him to see him like that with his eyes. “Kept wanting to see Peggy and me. Kept saying I was dead.”

“Oh.” Steve says tiredly. “I guess it was the drugs.”

“I don’t think so, Stevie.” Bucky says. “I think there’s something more going on. I think you’re hurting and trying to hide it.”

Steve sinks further back into his pillow and refuses to say anything. Bucky is okay with that. He knows this game, if he waits long enough Steve will talk.

He has to wait a lot longer than he expects but finally Steve talks. It’s soft and low and scared. And Bucky wishes he could just curl around Steve and hold him to let him know it was fine. They had to do this, though.

“Remember back when we were first reunited and I told you about the dream I had about Peggy?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah?” Bucky says evenly. “You about to tell me you lied Rogers?”

“I just left out some really important details.” Steve says, “Because I didn’t what to know what your reaction to the truth was going to be.” 

“And what’s the truth?” Bucky asks scooting closer so he can hold Steve’s hand. “Steve you were absolutely heartbroken last night. It hurt to see you like that. Just, tell me what’s wrong and maybe we can find a solution.”

Steve weakly tugs at Bucky’s hand trying to pull him closer. Bucky gamely moves towards Steve, willing to give his best friend whatever he needs to finally have this conversation. Finally Bucky works out that Steve wants Bucky sitting on the small hospital bed next to him. 

“It felt real.” Steve admits once he has Bucky with him. “I dreamt in the ice and it felt like real life. When I woke up, it was like five years of my life just didn’t happen.”

It was frustrating how expertly Steve was avoiding Bucky’s real question. But then Bucky was avoiding voicing his suspicions. He knew what it was like to fear ruining the friendship they both relied so heavily on.

“What happened?” Bucky asks calmly. “I mean a lot can happen in five years, even if it’s all in your head.”

“You know, stuff.” Steve says all manufactured easiness. “I lived my life. We made it through the war. You came back. Peggy and I got married.”

“You’ve said as much.” Bucky says. “I want details.”

Steve’s face turns sad. “No, you don’t Bucky. You really, really don’t.”

This one is easy to answer. “Sure I do.” Bucky says. “I want to know everything about you, Steve. You got a life not lived in your head? I want to know about it because it’s part of you.”

That’s when Steve turns his head from Bucky and stares out the window. For a heart stopping second Bucky thinks that that’s it. Steve’s ending this discussion and will never let Bucky help him.

“You’re not going to let this go. Are you?” Steve asks softly after a very long moment.

“Not on your life.” Bucky says stubbornly. “Not if I can help.”

“You’re going to be disgusted by me.” Steve says more confidently.

Bucky thinks about that. A vague memory of Steve being so sick that he threw up on him comes to him and he jumps on it. “Still not going to happen. If I wasn’t disgusted by you when you had that flu in 1938, I’m not going to be disgusted by you now. You aren’t about to throw up on me right?”

Steve sighs “No, Bucky. I’m not.” There’s another one of those long conversation ending pauses. Bucky waits it out and is rewarded when Steve speaks, so softly he wouldn’t have heard if he weren’t a super soldier. “You were there with us.” Steve admits. “The whole time you were ours. You were mine.”

Bucky inhales sharply at the confession. He knows it sounds shaky but that was closer than he had ever expected Steve to get to saying he loved him. “And last night?” Bucky presses.

Steve finally turns back to him. Bucky expects Steve to tell him about the dream that upset him. He expects to hear that he died again, or that he turned out to be evil. He doesn’t expect a heartfelt apology.

“I’m sorry, Buck.” Steve says roughly. His eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Please don’t hate me.” The tears start to spill over and Bucky leans over Steve. Reaching out with his flesh hand to wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb.

Finally he gets it. Steve wasn’t keeping the dreams secret because he once loved Bucky. He was keeping the dreams secret because he loves Bucky, now and always.

“Steve,” He says softly, trying to put every ounce of the adoration he’s always felt for Steve into the words. “You don’t understand how completely impossible it is for me to hate you.” Bucky says softly, only for Steve’s ears. 

Then he closes the distance between them, lips brushing gently against Steve’s. The kiss is slow and sweet. Nothing more than a little bit of pressure and the whisper of lips brushing against each other. Then Steve is pulling away to fall further into his pillows.

“Do you mean it?” Steve asks uncertainly. He can’t be too unsure of Bucky’s sincerity because he starts trying to make room in the tiny hospital bed for Bucky.

“Whoa, hold still there Pal. The docs said you weren’t to over exert yourself. I’m fairly certain wiggling like that is bad for broken ribs.” He tries unsuccessfully to keep Steve from moving around.

“I’m fine.” Steve grits out, finally reaching the far edge of the bed. “I just want you to stay with me.”

He’s giving him those damn puppy eyes. So Bucky does the logical things and leans back against the pillows. “I feel like Dr. Benjamin is going to come in at any moment.” Bucky murmurs softly. Remembering the large burly man that by appearance had no business being a doctor but cared deeply about his patients. Even Steve who he nursed through pneumonia regularly. Even when Steve wouldn’t be able to pay the bill.

“Why’s that?” Steve asks drowsily, slumping against Bucky’s shoulder. He shifts his arm so that Steve’s still delicate head is resting on Bucky’s chest and runs his metal fingers through the golden hair that was left long during Steve’s surgery.

“Because I’m doing something I shouldn’t.” Bucky says. “I keep expecting him to come storming in with the usual speech.” He tries to pitch his voice low and rough like Dr. Benjamin’s. “Now Barnes, you get away from my patient right now, all you’re doing is making him sicker and risking your own health to boot!”

Steve chuckles softly and leans further into him. Bucky drops a kiss on his head and says “I’ll always mean it Stevie.” As Steve slips back into sleep with the ghost of a smile still on his lips. 

They finally let Steve out of the hospital three days later. He’s sent back to Avengers Tower with stern instructions to not overdo it. Instructions Bucky takes to heart and Steve predictably doesn’t.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky asks when Steve moves to sit up on the couch. They’re camped out in the common floor of the tower so the Avengers can check in on Steve as they please without Steve having to even think about moving. 

Bucky had stretched out on the couch with Steve cuddled in front of him. Hoping that would convince him to spend the day resting. It obviously wasn’t working.

“Aw, come on Bucky.” Steve whines. “I just want milk. It’s fifteen steps to the fridge!”

Bucky brings his metal arm to rest across Steve’s chest. Holding the super soldier to him. “You’re supposed to rest.” Bucky growls against Steve’s ear, knowing the other man likes it when Bucky’s voice gets husky. “Wait for one of team to come through. We’re due for a check-in in ten minutes. Ask whoever’s volunteered to brave your fit pitching this time.”

Bucky’s thankful when the fight goes out of Steve and he slumps boneless against his side. “Fine.” Steve sulks. 

They go back to watching the movie JARVIS had put on for them at Stark’s recommendations. It’s utterly ridiculous, something about a madman who imprisoned hundred of young boys to play a giant piano. He’d hate it if he weren’t with Steve.

Bucky wonders if Steve is paying as little attention as he is. Not that anyone could ever blame him. All of his focus was for Steve. The curve of Steve’s spine against his chest, the measure of Steve’s breath. Those were the only things that mattered to Bucky.

He feels Steve’s head tip back and finds himself looking into sky blue eyes. “Bucky, I’m bored.” Steve moans.

“You’re bored?” Bucky asks, tilting his head down so he can nuzzle against Steve’s soft hair. It smells like apples. 

“So bored.” Steve agrees. “You should definitely do something about that.”

Bucky kisses the top of Steve’s head and turns back to the screen. “I am, Punk. I’m trying to get you to watch a movie. Though I’m not sure why we’re watching this movie.”

“I have better ideas.” Steve coerces. Turning so he’s nuzzling Bucky’s neck suggestively.

Bucky sighs, realizing it’s going to be a long evening. “Okay, how about we play a game?” He suggests shifting his weight and Steve so that they are on their sides. Steve’s nose is now buried against his chest.

“A game?” Steve asks like he can’t believe Bucky. “I don’t want to play a board game Bucky!”

“You’ll like this one.” Bucky promises, grinning down at his Punk. “I learned it from Natasha and Clint while we were at the farm.”

Steve raises a skeptical but reluctantly interested eyebrow in response. 

“Never have I ever used a trashcan lid as a shield.” Bucky says, grinning when understanding brightens Steve’s eyes.

“But we don’t have alcohol and I’m not supposed to drink.” Steve protests with a frown.

“Then we’ll have to find something else won’t we?” Bucky says softly. “Answer the question Stevie.”

Feeling a shift in Bucky’s mood Steve’s expression softens. “I have.” he says like it’s a confession. 

Bucky hums in acknowledgement. “Yes, I know it was your favorite weapon. Guess you’re going to have to kiss me pal.”

Steve’s head snaps up and for a moment he looks confused, then a sly grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, I can do that.”

The kiss is slow and heated. A steady build of want until Bucky pulls away. Steve groans with frustration. “Come on, Bucky.” He complains.

Bucky graces his best friend and love with a shit eating grin. “It’s your turn, Punk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you didn't see that coming, huh? And that's a wrap! Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Links to the songs that are the reason this fic exists.  
> Ghost by Ella Henderson: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tA8AfQaUnXM  
> Geronimo by Sheppard: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UL_EXAyGCkw
> 
> See you with an update next week! Thanks for reading!


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